


Tempting Fate

by beanbeanbean (myfunnyvalentinebean), exquisitefrogprince, myfunnyvalentinebean



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Assassination Attempt(s), Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Many forms of attempted murder, Medieval, Not to either of the MCs tho, Poisoning, Royalty, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 142,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23035945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myfunnyvalentinebean/pseuds/beanbeanbean, https://archiveofourown.org/users/exquisitefrogprince/pseuds/exquisitefrogprince, https://archiveofourown.org/users/myfunnyvalentinebean/pseuds/myfunnyvalentinebean
Summary: Prince Isa is an ambitious heir. Growing to take his father's throne in secret, unwilling to get on the bad side of the suspicious and cruel king. A lifetime of quiet rebellion in hopes of changing the cruel ways of the nobility the moment he takes the throne.Yet, the day Terra was thrown on the throne room floor, accused of killing his own father, something stirred within the prince. A moment in which he could not be silent. Not when this formal soldier was so intriguing. But there was no way to save Terra after the king had condemned him. No way except..Claiming Terra to be his.
Relationships: Isa/Terra (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

Perhaps it should have been expected. The pounding on the doors. The sounds of chainmail as guards seemed to have appeared out of nowhere to seize him. Seized, chained, then dragged from his place in the barracks towards the imposing palace. The palace he had sworn to protect and fight for, now the place of his inevitable doom.

How could he have possibly thought that his crimes would go unnoticed... and unpunished? It had been foolish to hope for. Someone had seen, that same someone that had caused all of it. Then that someone had told others, likely the captain of the royal guard. The story likely twisted to create the image of a vengeful bastard instead of a young man that had been tricked. A story that would have left no room for mercy in any that heard it. That would be the only thing that made sense.

He hadn't even gotten fully dressed before the guards had appeared to arrest him. Only in his undershirt and trousers, he was led to the castle. Hard, packed dirt turned to cold, unyielding stone as they progressed from the lower barracks to the fineries of the palace. Perhaps he should feel lucky that it wasn't too cold, but that didn't stop him from trembling.

He could feel it. The gaze of every person that passed. Some curious, some confused, some scared, some judgement, and all knowing what this procession meant. Only those who had committed a certain type of crime, especially one from within the guard's own ranks, got personally escorted to their judgement. For there was only one person that could choose the fate for these crimes.

The king.

His gaze fell to the floor once they reached the throne room. Not only could he not face his own king, his own judgement, but he couldn't face someone else that he knew to be in there. His closest companion. His sister. He had no idea what all she knew, but it would be known soon enough. He just couldn't bear to risk seeing the look on her face go from confusion to horror. That would be too much to bear.

Suddenly, he was forced to his knees. Before the throne. There was no other explanation. He kept his eyes fixedly on the ground.

"Your Highness," the captain said, bowing briefly before standing firm, "we have a criminal that requires immediate judgement."

The man in the throne was of a very specific sort. He was simple --blunt, direct, and knew very well what he wanted. As did everyone else. His thoughts were never a mystery, nor were his desires. The king liked money. He liked to be respected. He didn't care for insubordination from any of his people, and he ruled with a tight iron fist, claiming the majority of the kingdom's wealth for himself. The king had little patience, and passed judgement quickly. He'd been known to have offending peasants struck down for looking at him the wrong way.

The man on the throne in front of the prone figure wasn't a mystery.

The man beside him was.

If his father was an open, blood-stained book, the prince was an indecipherable manuscript tucked away in a tomb. He was hard to read, and he liked it that way. His plans were complicated, as were his thoughts and emotions, and each were tucked rather closely to his chest.

The look on the king's face was stern, unyielding, as always. His son's was equally hard, but a great deal more critical, and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

He stood still, off to the side of the throne, and cast a piercing gaze of the criminal's figure. He certainly didn't seem like the sort of "criminal" they were typically tossed, but it seemed everything nowadays was some offense or another. It irked him to no end, but there was little he could do about it in his current position. Not that it would stop him from trying.

From planning.

From biding his time.

He was silent, allowing his father to speak. Gods knew he had no other choice.

"Who's the offending, and what's his crime?" The king demanded of the captain in a gruff voice. A far too  _ intentionally _ gruff voice, in the prince's opinion.  _ If you want to be respected, you should try acting respectable. . . not yelling at your subjects in the hoarsest voice you can muster. You sound like you've got a cold. _

Suppressing a slight eye twitch, the prince simply crossed his arms and observed.

The captain glanced at the man bound on the floor before looking back up at the king. There was part of the man that was pained by this, but the law must be upheld. No exceptions. Not even for...

"Terra Caelius,  _ former _ member of the royal army, adopted son of Eraqus Caelius, second in command of the armies," the captain informed, "as for the crime..." The captain couldn't help but glance at Terra again before shaking his head. He looked back at the king, stern, serious, and almost angry.

"Patricide," he said, blunt and bitter. A gasp and murmur went through all that stood in the king's court. Everyone thought the same thing. How could someone that had been brought in to such a high position, granted training and rank above many others at a young age,  _ kill _ the man that raised him? Much less someone such as Commander Eraqus, a beloved and well-known warrior throughout the whole kingdom.

Terra knew what they were thinking. He knew what they would all think. And he knew what the punishment would likely be. Well, there was only punishment for murdering such a high ranking officer, not to mention the additional punishment from the sheer betrayal that came from killing your own father.

But.. it hadn't been him! He hadn't actually killed Eraqus! Yes, they had been dueling, and it might have ended poorly. But they had stopped! He had been about to take Eraqus back home. They had both had injuries that needed tending to. Yet, when he had turned his back for one moment to get their horses, he heard a shout then the sound of a sword going back into its sheath. Running to the scene only left him to find his father dying with another soldier, another  _ commander _ , walking away.

He had called for help, but there was none.

He couldn't change what had happened, no matter how desperately he wanted to. But Eraqus had told him, with his final breaths, that it hadn't been his fault. That someone else had attacked him. That Terra shouldn't blame himself. That Terra should become the man he always knew him to be. It was too late for him not to blame himself. But... it might not be too late to stop whatever was coming.

"No, I didn't do that! It wasn't me! Someone else attacked him! Please I-" he started before one of the guards flanking him tied a piece of cloth around his mouth, muting him.

"Silence," the captain said angrily, "don't lie before the king. Someone  _ saw _ what you did."

Terra looked up, almost pleadingly towards the king, eyes briefly gazing at the prince beside the throne. Surely, he'd get some sort of trial, right? There had to be. He hadn't done anything wrong!

The atmospheric shift that accompanied the revelation of the crime was palpable. Exclamations of horror and grief abounded, as well as the occasional cry of rage. Eraqus had been popular and well-loved, and the thought of him having been taken down was outright horrible -- especially by his own son.

One of the few people not to audibly react was prince Isa, whose countenance was as cold and infallible as ever. Even he, however, couldn't quite keep his eyebrows from raising in shock. The man before him had taken down  _ Eraqus _ . . . he must have incredible skill. Skill he'd likely traded for a lack of heart, apparently -- patricide was perhaps the most heinous offense one could commit, and it was surprising to the entire gathered court that they were actually faced with a case. Especially that of such a strong and beloved member of the army.

Isa was equally shocked -- but not, perhaps, as horrified as he should have been. Perhaps as a result of his lack of love for his own father. Instead, he was intrigued. How exactly had Eraqus been taken down? Had he been tricked?  _ Why _ had his own son taken him down in the first place? Especially his  _ adopted _ son, who should have held nothing but gratitude for him?

As Terra started to protest, Isa's intrigue only grew -- only to be cut off by pure annoyance as the criminal was promptly silenced. It wouldn't have hurt to hear him out -- he was clearly a formidable fighter, and likely a valuable asset. Isa knew all too well what was coming. . . and it was  _ such _ a waste. What he wouldn't give just to hear the rest of the warrior's story, whether that protest had been true or not.

But it was far too late, now.

Late, because the king was one of those reacting with pure  _ rage, _ expression twisting into a sneer beneath his neatly trimmed blue beard.  _ "An unforgivable crime," _ he roared, hands clenching tightly on the arms of his throne. "Silence the cur -- permanently."

Isa knew that would be the verdict, but there was nothing he could do. His father always  _ had _ been all too happy to order the swinging of an axe -- an axe that was now brought by a servant and offered to the captain with a sweeping bow. Another was bringing a block, long since stained with the blood of many other fallen men, as the entirety of the court stared the criminal down with merciless eyes.

"Let it be known how we treat those who have the audacity to stand against those who raised them," The king continued in that same, angry tone, while staring down the prone and bound figure before him like some sort of overconfident god promising eternal damnation.

No. No no  _ no _ !

Was Terra not going to be able to defend himself?! He hadn't even been able to get a full sentence out! This wasn't fair! And it was happening immediately?! But it couldn't! Not with  _ her _ here! He  _ knew _ she was guarding somewhere in this room. She couldn't see this. He couldn't let her. That would be too much. What he had already done was too much. She didn't need this too.

So he tried to pull away. He couldn't object verbally, but it wouldn't stop him from struggling and trying to call out. He tried to fight and do anything to avoid the punishment that he didn't even deserve. He couldn't die here. Not like this. Not for a crime he didn't commit. Not for something dishonorable. Not in front of his sister.

But it was no use. There were more than enough guards to restrain him and hold him forcefully down on the block. Nothing he did or tried to say was working. He didn't have a voice. He didn't have a chance. There was no way to prevent this. Not that he could see.

The captain took the axe stiffly. Even he felt this was... sudden. But the king's order wasn't to be disobeyed or argued. Only carried out. Immediately and exactly.

At this point, Terra was starting to fall into panic. He looked up desperately at the king, eyes begging for at least a chance to  _ speak _ , to have at least a moment to say goodbye to his sister, somewhere in the room. But he saw no mercy staring back at him. Only impossibly fierce rage. As if he had truly committed an innumerable amount of the worst crimes imaginable. Which, as they all believed, he had. You could usually only kill your own father once.

His eyes flicked to the prince, who was standing by the throne. At least the prince didn't look angry or hateful. More... indifferent and maybe curious. There was no hope, but he stared at the prince with pleading eyes. He hadn't done anything wrong. He didn't deserve this.

Then... he gave up. Resigning himself to what he knew was coming. At least it would hopefully be quick. Maybe fast enough that his sister could look away for a moment and him be gone. He closed his eyes, a small remaining bit of prideful stubbornness refusing to let him cry. If this was to be the last time his sister saw his face, he wanted to at least try to look peaceful, even as he felt the air move as the axe was raised.

Terra received not an ounce of sympathy from the king. The only expression on his face was scorn, and a hint of some odd, sadistic pleasure. There was nothing he liked better than seeing an offender put into their place and gotten rid of -- and it was  _ ever so much _ better when they struggled. For some reason, especially, this particular offense had him ready to see blood.

And he wasn't the only one. Many of the council members were crying for a bloodbath, and there was nothing royal or dignified about it.

Isa found it disgusting.

He'd never agreed with public executions to begin with, let alone ones for minor offenses -- as was often the case in this very hall -- or without a trial at all, as in this instance. It was horrid, and the people around him suddenly reminded him a great deal more of animals.

Still, there was nothing he could do. And Isa knew that. No matter how much of a  _ waste _ this seemed. The accused seemed to have a remarkable amount of fighting ability . . . not to mention he was easy on the eyes. Not that Isa would admit to thinking that.

Any interference on his part would only undermine his own plans and self-image. He spent enough time already trying to counter his father's orders -- to outright speak against him would not only cause further animosity between them, but also be completely futile. There was something about that very conflict, however, that made this situation sit even worse with Isa. The way his father had spoken . . .  _ to stand against those who raised them _ . . .

The way the older man not-so-subtly cut his eyes in Isa's direction. Ah. So this was another attempt to scare him into his proper place, was it?

Isa was suddenly a lot less likely to let this stand, and that feeling only grew as the executioner started to raise his blade. He bit his tongue rather hard, fighting to keep his expression neutral even as an unidentified emotion surged within him, and tried to force himself to watch. He was in control. He was  _ always _ in control. This was horrid -- but it was  _ one _ life. One life in exchange for the many he could save if his father grew to trust him.

He might have actually succeeded if Terra hadn't looked towards him. The prince wasn't someone who received a good deal of attention, and that's the way he liked it. He turned every bit he  _ did _ receive away with a glare.

For some reason, having someone entirely bound and helpless look towards him with that amount of sheer  _ desperation, _ as well as some sort of fire he couldn't name, completely broke Isa's resolve -- as did the outright insulting implications of this being some sort of  _ lesson _ for him.

The prince didn't speak often in court, but he did, now. He strode forward, tall and imposing, right as the axe started to fall, and called out in a commanding tone --

_ "Wait." _

It was loud and clear, and not at all forced, and without thinking at all the executioner froze immediately. His blade was frighteningly close to severing the prone figure's head, the sharp edge just barely grazing into the back of his neck and leaving a line of blood that slowly trailed down towards the ground.

It had been impossible not to tense, not to hold his breath, not to hear his heartbeat in his ears. This was it. There was no chance Terra was going home after this. A public disgrace on top of an unjust, false accusation. It didn't matter anymore. He was just being used as a spectacle now, or maybe even an example. Either way, he was dead.

Except he wasn't.

He had heard the commanding voice, but he had almost been certain that he'd imagined it. Some odd hopeful hallucinations made by his own fear. But death didn't follow it. He could feel cold iron on his neck, piercing his skin. A shallow wound. Not one that caused the death he should have been receiving.

He didn't otherwise move, but he let out his breath the best he could through the cloth in his mouth. He opened his eyes to see... the prince? The prince standing tall and in front of the king. Had the prince been the one to tell everyone to wait? That wasn't possible.

Why would he do that?

Terra stared up at Isa with confused and maybe a little bit hopeful eyes. He didn't understand what was going on, but if it kept him from dying here, he wouldn't resist it. Though, he doubted this would truly change his fate. A few more minutes of breath was more than enough. Maybe he could even find his sister in the crowd. See her face just once more.

"Your Highness?" the captain said, confused, while slowly lifting the axe. No matter what happened next, it would need to move, afterall.

"What's the meaning of this?" The king demanded immediately. If possible, he somehow looked angrier at Isa's interference than he had at Terra's actual crime. His face was red, contrasting rather horribly with the shade of his hair, and his teeth ground harshly together. He looked as if he might pop a blood vessel at any moment and, to be honest, it would be to Isa's advantage if he did. This sort of interference was outright humiliating -- Isa was outright undermining something that his father had ordered, leaving the guards in a state of confusion and uncertainty.

It was sure to be a talking point, even if the execution now proceeded as originally ordered. And the king was  _ furious. _ Isa could see that.

There was only one way that he could think of to quell that rage. One way to emerge from this situation the victor in every conceivable way, and without his father breathing down his neck.

He had to shock him. He had to do something he'd never done before, that the king had been adamant that he do. Isa was thinking entirely on the fly, and it was all he could think of -- but it would work. He was sure of it. It had to.

"I want him," He answered simply, in that same tone. As he spoke, he didn't dignify his father by meeting his gaze. Instead, he looked down at the criminal, eyes boring holes in the other's skull as if he was trying to see into his soul. Though his expression was still calm and entirely neutral, his eyes were searching and deep.

"His life is forfeit, yes?" He then asked, entirely rhetorically. "So give it to me. You're always saying that I should take on a  _ personal servant _ . . . " The implications of the statement were incredibly evident. Every aristocrat had at least one. Isa's father himself had several, and had frequently expressed scorn for his son's rather reserved nature.

Isa turned to his father, then, with a faint and victorious smirk. "So allow me to have  _ him. _ Surely a life of servitude is an equally fitting punishment -- and, as soon as I grow bored, you can have your dear execution. Please, father . . . " He gave a short, curt bow, that somehow managed to be both respectful and the slightest bit haughty. ". . . Allow me the chance to . . . entertain myself, just this once. You, there --"

He had nodded to the captain. "Undo his gag. Allow him to choose. To become my man, or a swift death by the axe."

The king was, for the moment, far too stunned to argue. It seemed the prince had already achieved at least a small victory.

To be completely and totally honest, Terra had no idea what was happening. One moment, he was a breath away from being headless, with a small cut along his neck to prove it. The next, someone, not just someone,  _ the prince _ had interceded for him and prevented the execution. Only for the prince to request...  _ that _ .

It was one thing, though a very significant thing, to stand up to the king. Much more so within the court itself. It was another thing to interrupt an execution... then to make the one being executed a  _ personal servant _ . That job was... much more than simply being a server of food or assistance with putting on royal robes. Just by adding the word  _ personal _ , the term became much different. It became a word that essentially meant the prince could ask, more like order, anything of him.  _ Anything _ .

His bewildered and maybe a small bit grateful gaze met Isa's intense one. He supposed there was no hiding from the prince. It would be better to look. To allow the prince to find whatever he was looking for. Hearts knew the prince would inevitably get it anyways.

There were already murmurs throughout the crowd. Whispers of this display of usurped authority as well as the shock that the prince had chosen now of all times to claim his first. The captain hesitated. The king was obviously furious, and he didn't want to make that  _ worse _ . Both for the sake of his life and his job. But the prince was giving an order, who also had many of the same authorities.

Slowly, as if waiting for the king to object, the captain lowered his axe completely and gently to the ground. He nodded at one of the guards that had been restraining Terra. Said guard quickly did as commanded and undid the cloth around Terra's mouth, allowing him to speak again.

The moment the immediate danger was gone and the gag was removed. Terra shifted slightly and took a large breath. It was easier, now, to get a deep breath. It was strange how well the gag cut off his breathing and his speech through his mouth.

But his mouth had been freed for a reason. He had been given a choice, more an ultimatum really. There was only one logical option. Unless he hated the prince for some reason, he briefly supposed. But he knew nothing of the prince. Few did. He had no idea what the prince wanted. Much less what the prince wanted  _ from him _ .

He knew what he would likely become. Should the prince desire it, anything could happen. Ranging anywhere from simply waiting on the prince like a common servant to... much more intimate requests at the prince's leisure. Neither of which he had any experience in. But he wouldn't be able to deny anything to the prince. Certainly not when the prince had prevented his death.

Even if he didn't know what could happen. . .it was better than dying. Especially with his sister present. The answer to the question was perhaps far too simple, but it had taken him a moment to figure out what to say in his head. The right way to do it. Surely, there was some way to do this properly.

He shifted into move almost like a bow rather than simply being on the executioner's block. Yes, there was only one answer. There could only  _ be _ one answer.

"Whatever you wish for me to do, I will do," Terra said, bowing his head, "My life is forfeit and entirely in your hands.." He'd say nearly anything to prevent this from happening. He didn't fear death, but he wasn't going to invite her. Especially not with his family so close. They would be so hurt.

One task at a time. Get through this moment without dying.

Maybe, if whatever the prince was doing worked, then he could be safe for a time. Maybe if he learned to...  _ behave _ , he'd be rewarded with the allowance to see his family, if only for a moment. Or at least send them a letter. So long as he didn't... bore the prince, this could work. He'd be safe for a little while trying to figure out how to  _ tell _ his family.

If the hue of the king's face was any indication, Isa had caused an incredible offense. But he also knew one of the reasons the king was so upset was because he wasn't going to be able to argue -- and, perhaps, a part of him agreed with what Isa was saying. Even if what Isa was saying wasn't saying the entire truth.

He was also impressed at the relatively put-together answer that the accused had given. It had been logical, and  _ very _ strategic -- and entirely the right thing to say. The prince had honestly expected a bit more tears, accompanied by begging. That, or a scornful refusal and to be spat at.

"See? He's clearly a good listener. And doesn't such a heinous crime warrant a more . . . prolonged punishment?" He was speaking  _ very _ pointedly, and knew very well that appealing to his father's cruelty was the best way to calm him down and stay on his good side. "Surely it's more fitting for such a formerly honored warrior to fall into disgrace and humiliation than to take him out so quickly and mercifully."

While he clearly didn't appreciate being argued with, the king was visibly considering Isa's proposition. He'd been telling Isa for what felt like years that he should take on a bed warmer, and had always taken offense that Isa refused. Part of him was honestly pleased that the prince seemed to finally be giving in. . . and he had to admit, the thought of condemning Terra to a life of servitude and humiliation was almost more appealing than watching his blood shed.

" . . . Very well," He growled, finally, to which the prince gave another almost overly polite bow. "Do with him what you will. He's entirely your responsibility."

"You have my thanks," was Isa's response, in a completely unreadable tone. The corners of his lips were curled into an incredibly self-satisfied smile as he held his bow, all while looking at Terra out of the corner of his eye.

Terra kept his eyes on the ground. It would be all too easy for the king to simply change his mind. But it seemed... the prince was genuinely convincing the king, if even for a perceived worse punishment. In a way, it truly was worse. The prince was certainly right, this was a far fall from his position of rank and honor. It was a fall that would happen anyways, due to the nature of the crime he was condemned for, but it was no less jarring.

To go from a commanding officer, in line to succeed his father as one of the chief leaders in the army, to little more than property to the prince was... a very large drop in standing. Yes, his life would still be comfortable, much more comfortable than a soldier's, but he would have no freedom beyond what the prince directly gave him. There was no way to know how the prince would behave when the doors were closed and the prying eyes of the court were gone. And that scared him.

But it was better than being dead.

This way, at least, no matter what happened, he wouldn't die here in front of his sister without getting a chance to explain anything. He had a chance, however slim, to at least make sure his family knew the truth. He'd be content with any fate, so long as his family knew he wasn't a murderer, that he hadn't killed Eraqus. If he could tell his sister, she would tell their younger brother who was nowhere near this court. That was at least a relief. His brother hadn't seen this.

"Your Highness," a new, female guard said while stepping forward and bowing, "would you like me to escort him to your rooms?"

Oh no. Keep looking at the ground. Don't make the connection obvious. People likely wouldn't recognize her with her helmet on, but Terra knew her voice. What was she doing? Trying to get herself in trouble? Any would be suspicious of the man accused of patricide  _ leaving with his sister _ . He supposed he couldn't blame her. She probably wanted answers as much as he wanted to give them to her.

For a moment, Isa almost agreed. Having the guard lead Terra off would likely give him a moment to get his own thoughts in order, which was essentially considering he didn't honestly have any idea what to  _ do _ with his new personal servant. He certainly wasn't going to do what he'd implied to his father.

But he'd recognized the soldier's voice, and he knew all too well who she was. Isa had made it a habit to obtain knowledge of every single member of his court and army, as well as their relations to one another and a good number of the rest of the kingdom's citizens. This guard, even with her helmet obscuring her appearance, was very easily recognized.The sister of the man he'd just spared. That was a little too suspicious for his liking.

Part of Isa considered letting her drag the other man away. They likely had a lot to talk about. The rest of him, however, was busy calculating the far too numerous risks. After all, his new servant -- hell, he was essentially a  _ slave _ \-- had committed one of the most heinous crimes possible, against the father he  _ shared _ with this woman. There was a distinct possibility she'd come seeking retribution for her father, rather than out of worry for her brother.

Additionally, if  _ Isa _ recognized the woman, there was a distinct possibility that he wasn't the only one. If someone else, including the king, saw him allow his new supposed plaything out of his sight so quickly -- and released into a member of his own  _ family _ \-- suspicion would likely fall upon him. Isa couldn't afford that -- not now, after already causing such an uproar.

"No, thank you," He answered, polite but commanding. "I believe I'll retire there, myself, now -- I'd like to take him, myself." He allowed a mirthful smile to play on his lips; one that likely looked sadistic (and probably appealing) to the rest of the court.

He reached down, then, and hauled Terra to his feet a bit roughly, keeping a hand on his arm. "Can you walk?" He demanded curtly, ignoring the stares and hushed gossiping of the court. The king, to Isa's relief, was now  _ smiling. _ It appeared he quite liked the thought of this supposed punishment.

If it weren't for the current situation, Terra might have gotten angry at Aqua. She was being reckless! It was bad enough that he was stuck in this position. The last thing either of them needed was for Aqua to be seen as a co-conspirator or a vengeful soldier and sister. That would only get  _ both _ of them in an inescapable mess. He wished there was some way he could tell her that he'd find a way to talk to her. But that was impossible. Not with every eye on him, the prince, or the king.

It was almost relieving that Aqua's suggestion had been denied. Those risks and questions didn't have to be dealt with. At least, not right now. He could try to think of how to explain himself to Aqua. He didn't have to worry about someone suspecting Aqua of anything. And he had time (hopefully) to learn why the prince had even spared him. It was likely just as the prince had said, a prolonged, humiliating punishment. He hoped that wasn't it, but it seemed likely.

However, he felt no real relief from Aqua not being involved. This was due to the shock of being roughly grabbed and dragged to his feet. In all honesty, he hadn't expected the prince to actually be  _ that _ strong. He had been a bit under the impression that the prince wouldn't have done much physical training. So suddenly being lifted by someone he thought didn't have the strength was surprising.

"Yes... your highness," he said, unable to process anything else to say, even taking a moment to remember the proper honorifics. He had no real idea what was going to become of him at this point, but he knew he couldn't  _ refuse _ .

He saw Aqua bow and back away. He had no idea when he was going to see her again, but he would find some way to communicate with her. It likely wouldn't be in the immediate future. But, eventually. He had to talk to her again... somehow.

The gravity of his new situation began to set in as he realized... the prince was going to retire from the court. In his personal rooms. Away from everyone else. And he had no choice but to go with the prince. Many scenarios flashed in his mind of what would happen. Some dangerous and bad. Some simply... unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Very few anything positive.

He just needed to stay calm. Not an easy task at the moment, but a necessary one. If he lost his composure, it could cost him everything. He knew how to control himself. Now was the time to use that knowledge.

He stood up a bit straighter, though he still felt impossibly small under the gaze and grip of the prince. But at least he could appear more than a cowering criminal in front of Aqua and the others in the court. Perhaps he could savage some small part of his dignity and honor... as he was led off to likely lose all of it.

The gravity of the situation was starting to settle in for the prince, as well. He still wasn't entirely sure why exactly he'd stopped the execution -- only that something had compelled him to hear the rest of the condemned man's story. That, and there was some sort of sheer  _ fire, _ something incredibly strong and  _ alive _ about him that Isa simply couldn't let go to waste. Not to mention he was likely an incredible fighter -- provided he was truly as innocent as he'd declared himself, or at the very least loyal, he'd be a valuable person for Isa to have on his side.

And Isa needed all of the allies he could get, with all of the plans he had brewing.

There was the question now, however, of what  _ exactly _ to do with his new servant. His mind was moving quickly, running through every possibility, as he was handed a rope that was attached to Terra's wrists -- now bound in front of his body.

He then took his final leave, with a dignified bow and a few canned parting remarks, and jerked on the rope before heading off towards his chambers. While his mind was a flurry of activity, he refused to let it outwardly show, remaining his eternally composed and stoic self. Expression unreadable, eyes fixed straight ahead, strides long and fast but not noticeably hurried. He didn't look back at the person he was tugging behind him like a dog -- they could talk once they were in private.


	2. Chapter 2

Of course, Isa would have to be careful. He still knew next to nothing about this man, nor what to do with him. He certainly wasn't going to do what he'd _told his father_ he was going to -- he'd sooner have himself sent to the chopping block.

But he'd have to make a decision, and keep up appearances as if he _was_ . . . which would prove to be quite the problem if Terra didn't go along with him. The prince had no idea whether or not that would be the case -- or, really, the nature of the other man's character at _all._

He'd allow him to make the first move, then. Observe his behavior and make an appropriate decision in response.

That was the final choice the prince made as they arrived at his chamber and he threw open the heavy wooden door. His new servant was drug inside and released from the essential leash, though Isa momentarily left his hands bound. He then stepped back a bit, eyeing the other critically, and locked the door with a key he pulled from his pocket before starting to rifle through an ornate chest of drawers. Of course, he continued watching his new companion who would be entirely capable of attacking.

Just as the prince was deep within his own thoughts as they walked, Terra was plagued with his own. What would happen to Aqua? Would she be in trouble for even speaking directly to the prince unprompted? If she got in trouble, who would take care of Ventus? He was all alone in their home outside the city gates. They needed to be together. Would he be able to tell Aqua the truth? Would she even accept it? Would she even believe him? How were either of them supposed to tell Ventus?

But the most prevailing and perhaps most selfish thought of all was: what was going to happen to him now?

He was being led like some sort of animal through the castle. The castle he loved and swore to protect. But that wasn't his life now. He was no longer a soldier. 

It was jarring. He had been stripped of all rank and honor. He should have been dead. It would have been worse than death, really. His father was gone, and he had brought grief and shame to his family. Even though he hadn't been the one to kill Eraqus, Aqua and Ventus had lost both of them now. Would he even get a chance to write any of his family a letter?

But he wasn't dead. That may bring some comfort to his family... assuming they believed him innocent. They may wish him dead if they believed that he had actually committed the crime. He hoped they believed him. He truly did. But he knew better than to expect it. Familial love can be stretched too thin at times.

He was alive, but at what cost? He had been stripped of all freedom and self. He belonged to the prince now. Whatever the prince saw fit to do with him would be done, and he could do nothing to refuse or stop it. Not unless he truly wanted to die.

His life here would likely be much finer than a soldiers. He'd become the prince's doll, or perhaps a trophy. Something to flaunt around and control. And, as such, he would inevitably have to look the part, if only in front of others. He truly had no idea what would happen beyond that. What would the impassable prince do to him?

Once he was dragged into the prince's chambers, he didn't move. He stayed exactly where the prince had placed him, eyes staring at the ground. What he did... was no longer his decision. He had to wait to be told, lest he make some sort of mistake that angered the prince. He wouldn't move. He wouldn't look at the other. He wouldn't even speak. Not until he was told. He had to be careful. He couldn't die now when he'd been given this strange mercy, even if it was tinged with fear and anticipation.

He would simply wait and listen.

When he wasn’t attacked as soon as he gave Terra a bit of space, Isa found himself feeling the exact same sort of satisfaction that he had with Terra's response to his initial proposition. He was clearly well-behaved, expressing a disciplined sort of behavior that came from calculating the correct response even under extreme duress. That spoke of either loyalty, or of a very strategic and intelligent attempt to do whatever he had to in order to stay alive.

Either way, Isa could work with it. Even if he wasn't certain exactly what kind of _work_ that was going to be. His decision had been purely based off of intrigue, and now he was left a bit put-out on what exactly to do with him.

Well, first things first. If Terra wasn't going to make any sort of move, then Isa would have to act first.

After pulling what he needed from the drawer, he shut it behind him and turned back to the other with that same impassive expression and searching eyes. Without any sort of outward reaction, he drew his dagger from its sheath on his waist.

It was gripped tight in his hand as he stepped towards the other man, glinting in the light of the wall's hanging lanterns. Without a word, he started to reach forward with the blade.

Terra was a trained soldier. A young one, yes, but he had also begun training much earlier than most, if even unofficially. All had agreed upon his natural aptitude, that he was a fast learner when it came to weapons and fighting. Almost as if he could sense the world around him to even protect himself from an attack from behind. He knew all about every weapon he used. Swords, spears, axes, shields...

He knew the sound of a dagger being unsheathed. Even if he didn't see it. It was a sound that he knew from endless sparring fights and lessons. He knew exactly what it was, exactly the purpose of it.

But he didn't know _why_.

Why would the prince go through all of that, interrupting the court, near defying the king, and leading him back here, just to kill him in private? It made no sense to do all of that. Any of the prince's actions could have been negated by the king at any time, but they weren't. The prince had actually reasoned with the king to make this scenario happen. Why would the prince risk his standing with the king just to kill him?

Unless, the intent wasn't to kill.

That thought was almost more terrifying. If the prince wasn't going to _kill_ him, then why did he have the dagger. There were only a few things that a dagger was _for_ , and many of those things did not end well for him. Especially not where others couldn't see. Not that he'd get a defense anyways. He was for the prince to do whatever he pleased with. Even if it was cruel.

He tried to keep his eyes on the ground. To act unfazed. To keep his breathing even. To be strong. Whatever happened, he could endure it. Because at least he was alive. Maybe he could explain something to Aqua. It may take a long time before that could happen, but it had to happen eventually. No matter what happened.

Maybe the prince was just testing him somehow. That was the hopeful thought. A sort of "see if you flinch" game. It didn't make sense, but it was the most positive thing his mind gave to him.

But it was impossible _not_ to flinch, to take a half-step away, to quickly look up from the floor in panic. Perhaps he shouldn't have, but he looked the prince in the eyes, searching for an explanation or motive. He saw no sadistic pleasure. He saw no cruelty. It seemed at if the prince was searching for something within him. But what? And how could it possibly be discovered this way?

He tried to set his jaw and prevent any more fearful actions or expressions. But his eyes betrayed him. Wide, brown eyes that met the prince's own eyes with fear and confusion. The look of someone that knew their life was entirely at the mercy of the other... and it scared them.

Perhaps the prince should have thought that action out more. He'd been far too distracted by his own racing thoughts and observations to consider how the other might have taken him coming towards him with a knife.

As it was, he'd been surprised by Terra's sudden movement and raised the knife in instinctive defense, just in case the servant was moving to attack him. It was a bit of an extreme reaction, and he knew it, but he'd been caught off guard since Terra had otherwise been standing so very still. The flinch had been sudden, and had caught the prince off guard.

When he didn't find himself attacked, he blinked slowly in an attempt to register what the hell had just happened, and met the other man's eyes as they rose to meet his own for the first time since Isa had stopped the execution.

He was scared. That much was plainly obvious -- and now, upon reflection, Isa couldn't say he blamed him. He'd been forced down beneath an axe and nearly had his head severed from his shoulders before he was allowed a chance to defend himself, only to have that same execution just _barely_ halted in time to spare him. Then he'd been told he was becoming a plaything, with which Isa could do whatever he wanted.

Perhaps he expected to be slowly, privately gutted. Hurt, and violated, and humiliated beyond all measure. For all he knew, Isa wanted to take his time torturing him before finally putting him out of his misery. Though it was in Isa's nature to be cold and firm, he was _human,_ and ultimately cared about everyone in his kingdom. Regardless of Terra's guilt, the prince felt a surge of sympathy.

Though it was a minute change, his voice and expression grew slightly softer as he raised his hands -- including the one holding the knife -- in a show of complacence. "Calm down," He said sternly, though his voice was less domineering than it had been in the throne room and held an uncharacteristic softness. He then lowered the knife again, moving slowly and letting the other process every move, and cut not skin but the rope binding the condemned man's wrists before tossing it to the side.

"That's all, alright? I don't intend to harm you unless you give me cause."

The fearful heartbeat sounding through Terra's ears didn't calm. It only got worse as the prince approached. It was more likely that it was the proximity of the knife that caused his panic. The prince himself was a mystery. He didn't know what to expect. His mind was almost completely certain that this wasn't going to end well and was quickly trying to prepare for any of many worse case scenarios.

But none of those happened.

Instead, the prince moved slowly, carefully, and spoke more softly. Not by any large amount, but there was a noticeable change in tone. A slightly more gentle tone, even if still firm and stiff. Almost like the difference between a sharp stone in a boot and a smooth stone in a boot. Both hurt and made one tense, but at least one didn't pierce skin.

He tensed when the knife was the closest yet, only to relax due to confusion. He'd felt no pain. The bindings had simply been cut. His hands had been freed. Slowly, he brought his arms a bit closer to himself, rubbing his wrists slightly. At least there didn't seem to be any lasting damage to his wrists. He stared at them closely. It was a small comfort to have use of his hands. Maybe he could actually protect himself if anything truly bad happened.

Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.

After a moment, he looked back up at the prince. He didn't meet the other's eyes, but he could see the other's face. He needed to be careful. He knew that. But he had to know. He had to ask. It was the only way he'd have even the vaguest idea of what was going to happen to him. Or when and how he'd be able to talk to Aqua.

"What do you wish for me to do, your Highness..?" he asked, almost dreading the answer. Truly, the answer could be anything. Maybe he didn't want to know it. But his mind wouldn't be at rest until he knew what to prepare himself for.

Ah, yes. That was the question, wasn't it? Really, Isa wanted to know Terra's full story. What he'd been trying to say before he was gagged. But it seemed a bit too early for that, still -- and he'd yet to develop a proper read on the other man.

Though, his opinion was starting to shift more towards "loyal" rather than "intelligently saying whatever he had to in order to live." Terra had given another perfect answer, and hadn't retaliated when given the use of his hands. Which he very well could have -- though Isa would have been ready with the knife. Perhaps he knew that, of course, and was simply biding his time. Isa would have to be careful.

For now. . . well, he had to think of something to _do_ with the man. They likely wouldn't be expecting to hear from him back in court for quite some time, potentially for the rest of the day. Officials often took a great deal of time _breaking in_ new personal servants. They'd likely expect longer from him, considering this was the first time he'd taken one.

That left them time to get to know one another, at least.

The prince sighed, pausing for a moment to think, and dared to tuck the knife back into its sheathe. As he thought, he glanced the other over and caught sight of a thin red line trailing down the side of his neck. Oh, yes -- the wound. Right. That's why Isa had gone to the drawers to begin with.

He'd tucked the first aid kit under his arm, but removed it now as he snapped his fingers in the direction of an ornate chaise. "Sit down," He ordered, in that same stern but not overly cruel tone.

It was the time to get to know one another that Terra was worried about. That "getting to know" held all sorts of implications and actions that he didn't even understand the entirety of. He knew what personal servants were _usually_ used for. So it was likely that certain new things would occur... if the prince wished it. He wasn't exactly in a position where he could _refuse_.

He did, however, feel a little better at the dagger being put away. At least he didn't have to worry about being stabbed. True, the weapon was still on the prince's person, easily accessible, but he wasn't holding it in his hand, swinging it around. There was less of an immediate threat from it now. He simply needed to avoid doing anything that would provoke someone to draw their weapon. Which shouldn't be hard.

It was impossible to not tense from the snap followed by an order. It had been two words, but they hadn't sounded cruel or scheming. Only blunt and direct. He decided to take that as a good sign. Plus, he was only being told to _sit_ down. Nothing else. Maybe the prince didn't like that he was taller? That wasn't something he could really help.

"Yes, your Highness," he said while doing exactly as he was told. He sat on the edge of the chaise lounge, looking at the ground uncertainly. After a second, he looked up at Isa somewhat expectantly, simply anticipating what would happen next.

Terra's height _was_ an issue, but not because it was affecting Isa's pride. No, it was only because he had a job to do. Luckily, the manner in which Terra had bowed his head would assist greatly in that job. . . if he hadn't looked up a moment later.

Something about those eyes was killing him. They were large, and warm, framed by thick lashes that would better suit some sort of precious woodland creature than a battle-hardened soldier. The look in his eyes certainly didn't _look_ hardened. . . strong, certainly, but not cruel or gruff. They weren't the eyes of a criminal . . . nor a killer. The prince didn't think so, at least.

He couldn't help thinking, as those eyes met his, filled with apprehension but also a sort of unrelenting determination, that perhaps it was those same eyes that had inspired him to stay the executioner's hand. He'd looked to Isa then, too. . . eyes full of desperation and _life._ Eyes the prince couldn't stand letting fall dull and glazed with death.

At least, not until he knew the story behind them.

He moved to the side of the chaise while opening the medicine kit -- an essential item Isa insisted on keeping stored in his room. Inside were a few basic poultices, as well as a few rags and a bandage. All of which were put to work now, as the prince nudged his servant's hair to the side as well as he possibly could, a hand placed on top of Terra's head to tilt it down once again.

He cleaned the wound without a word, then tied the bandage around his neck. Luckily, the cut wasn't deep. "That was incredibly close," he muttered, noting that a good half an inch more could have caused fatal damage. "You should consider yourself lucky."

It was likely foolish, but it hadn't backfired on him yet. Terra continued to look at the prince, following him with his eyes. Watching for movement. Waiting for something to happen. Until the prince was out of his sight. He couldn't turn and face the prince, that would be taking it too far. He had to just sit and let whatever was going to happen, happen.

He immediately tensed at the touch to his hair. Why was the prince moving his hair? Wasn't that where the axe had just barely cut him? Would a wound like that matter? Would being injured cause something bad? Then his head was tilted downwards. He had no idea what the prince was doing nor why, but that made it worse somehow. Even though he knew, for the most part, that there was a limited number of possibilities.

But then... nothing bad happened. He felt something delicately clean the cut before wrapping a bandage around his neck. He had almost been nervous about it tied around his throat. But there was no painful amount of pressure. Nothing constricted his breathing. Was... was the prince trying to help him?

"Lucky?" he breathed, "You saved my life, your Highness." Which was entirely true. The prince's intervention had prevented his immediate death. Somehow managing to halt the executioner mid-swing with only a word.

Yes, and that had occurred likely as a result of pure luck. Luck that Isa had even _been_ in the courtroom. That he had found himself intrigued, for whatever reason. That he was feeling _just_ the right amount of pissed at his father. That Isa was able to think of a way out, and that he was able to speak up in time. That the executioner had enough self control to be able to still his blade when it was already so close to ending Terra completely.

All of these factors had led to this eventuality, with Isa harboring a near stranger in his room whom he had _no_ idea what to do with. If he behaved too leniently, Terra would lose all respect for him, and would likely try to escape or even harm Isa in his sleep. But the prince also didn't have it in him to be unjustly cruel. He was going to have to be _very_ careful, _very_ strategic, until he figured his new servant out.

He was still behaving in an entirely docile manner, still. Head bowed respectfully, going along with anything Isa ordered. Really, he would have made the _perfect_ bedslave -- had the prince actually wanted such a thing. Which he very much did _not_ , no matter the part of him that was . . . impressed by the soldier's appearance.

"I suppose I did," He murmured aloud, then turned to place the first aid kit back into its drawer. It was a test. He'd turned his back on Terra completely, this time, though he remained alert and on edge. Still, if there was a time for the other to make some sort of move, this was it. "Or rather, I've claimed it for myself."

As soon as the prince had stepped away, Terra reached up and touched where the wound was over the bandage. It had been properly done. How did the prince know how to wrap bandages so well? Perhaps the image of royalty in his mind was slightly different than reality. He had expected the prince to be one constantly waited on, and thus only had the skills of ruling a kingdom, such as knowing the laws. It seemed that the prince knew more than that. What else could he know?

He didn't rise from the chaise. He wouldn't do anything unless he was told to. That was the best way for him to _stay_ alive in this situation. If he did something on his own that the prince didn't like, he could quite easily be back on the executioner's stand with no luck or mercy to save him.

Was it mercy that saved him? Had the prince been merciful? It seemed... unlikely, based on what the prince had just said. The prince didn't so much save him as he had taken him. Instead of death, he had to perform a life of servitude. Though, he had to admit, it was a little better than being dead.

He wondered why the prince had suddenly gotten the idea to change the punishment. The prince had clearly been fairly convicted in the matter, if he was willing to stop the will of the king within the court. Then the prince had proceeded to stand by his point until he had gotten what he wanted. Things like this just didn't _happen_ unless there was a reason. So why did the prince do it? What about him was worth preventing death? Especially if all there were convinced he was guilty and deserving of death. Why did the prince think differently?

He refrained from asking such questions. Part of him dreaded the answer. Part of him felt that the prince wouldn't like even being asked. It was better to keep such thoughts to himself. The answer may reveal itself one day, but it didn't have to come immediately. He just needed to be patient. In the meantime, he would keep his head down and keep objections to himself. There would be less trouble that way.

He did, however, watch the prince move about the room when he could see the prince again. It didn't appear that the prince had plans to hurt him. The prince wouldn't have treated his wound if there was ill intent. Most likely, at least. Still, he was wary. The dagger had put him on edge, even though it hadn't been used against him. It was still on the prince's person and could be easily gotten. The prince had said he wouldn't harm without reason. He didn't intend to give him a reason.

"Of course, my life is entirely yours, your Highness," he said. 

He couldn't help but feel ashamed. This was never how he imagined he'd offer his life for the crown. Never once. It was such a far cry from what he ever imagined that it was almost difficult to believe this was all real. But the cut on his neck made him certain. He was very much in reality.

Another perfectly chosen and delivered response. Again, this man was either incredibly loyal. . . or incredibly _smart,_ and waiting for the opportune moment to either take Isa down or make his escape.

But if the latter was the case, he hadn't yet given any sign, nor posed the prince any danger at all. He'd remained obedient, reserved, and visibly wary. Which Isa couldn't really blame him for. Criminal or not, this was an uncomfortable position for anyone to be in.

In fact, if Isa had been in Terra's same position, he would have demanded death by the axe before this form of servitude. Though that was likely only as a result of his pride.

The sound of those words displeased him, even coming from the mouth of another. He didn't _want_ to claim anyone's entire life -- no matter that he'd only really done so in order to save it. Still, he would have to hold onto that life until he knew that he could trust the other with it. At least in appearances.

"Aptly spoken," He muttered, feeling rather tired and frustrated with the entire situation. With a sigh, he released the belt from around his waist, removing from it his heavy claymore -- the prince never went out without at least a few arms on his person -- which he locked away in its case on his dresser. Ordinarily, he would have left it out, but he wasn't taking the risk. The knife, he'd keep on him -- just in case, attached to his hip.

Otherwise, and without another word, he started to undress. Cloak, cravat, and outer tunic were each stripped from his form and hung over something else, leaving him in his trousers, boots, and loose undershirt, which promptly fell open in the absence of his cravat. He was tired, and quite done with court for the day -- perhaps it was an oddly vulnerable position in which to present himself to a new servant; devoid of finery and the like, but he wasn't going to remain in fancy dress for the other's benefit. He'd content himself with holding onto the blade, though it was seeming more and more like Terra wasn't actually going to attempt to pull anything.

The prince's response somehow managed to leave Terra more on edge. The prince sounded almost irritated. Why? He'd been trying to do everything correct to _avoid_ anyone getting irritated. In his current position, the _last_ thing he needed was for the prince to be angry with him. With how soon this had all happened, it could quickly turn bad for him. Though the prince had asked for him, they were strangers. It was far easier to have a stranger killed than someone you knew well.

He stared at the sword as the prince put it away. He hadn't known that had been on the prince's person. If he had known, he likely would have been a bit more nervous. But it had never been drawn, and now it was being put away. Both good things. A dagger was a little easier to block with your bare hands anyways.

Any relief he received from the sword being put away immediately disappeared as he saw the prince getting undressed. He quickly looked away, heart racing. Was this about to happen? He really hoped not. On top of knowing nothing about this sort of thing, he also knew that he _couldn't refuse_. How could he possibly stay calm and go along with this? How? He'd have to figure something out, because it was unlikely he'd get a choice in the matter.

But then the prince stopped and was still mostly dressed. He didn't calm per se, but it did comfort him slightly that nothing like _that_ would be taking place. For the moment at least. It was likely that the prince just didn't want to wear all that heavy stuff in his rooms. Terra could certainly understand. Armor and training clothes could get tiresome to wear. He shouldn't be jumping to conclusions like this. Just do as told and be ready for anything.

While Terra was busy trying to determine what the prince was planning, Isa himself was doing the same. There was a reason he'd never taken on a personal servant before, and he very much had no idea what to do with this one.

Isa liked solitude. He liked simplicity. He liked to be able to retire to his chambers and be alone with himself and his thoughts, thank you, and he wanted no one bothering him during that time. Including servants. It was one of the many reasons he insisted on doing the majority of his housekeeping and the like, himself -- he knew how to mend clothing, tend to minor injuries, and do basic maintenance. He changed the oil in his lanterns, cleaned his own weapons, and bathed and dressed himself daily.

The latter two tasks shouldn't have been something he insisted on doing alone, but the majority of royals, as well as most of his court, somehow saw it necessary to have others to do it for them. Isa found himself wondering at what point they'd employ people wiping their privates and aspirating for them.

Well, he had to find _something_ for Terra to do. He could feel the servant's eyes on him, and it didn't take a genius to determine that he was waiting for Isa to give him orders. Well, he'd simply have to wait a moment.

The prince moved to the side again and rang a bell, which summoned a small handmaiden to his door. He spoke to the girl only briefly, placing an order for several items to be brought to his chamber within the next few hours. Among those items were a small meal for the both of them, as well as a change in wardrobe for his new _pet._ Terra would have to look the part of the sort of servant he was if Isa was to keep him -- the prince knew that very well.

When the maiden had departed, he closed and locked the door again before moving to recline on the chaise adjacent to the one on which Terra was sitting. He sighed, not looking at the other man, and allowed his eyes to fall half-closed.

"Rest for a moment," He ordered. It was the most fitting one he could think of, considering Terra still looked like a wary hunted animal. "I don't want anything from you of a personal nature, or otherwise. You can lie down if you wish."  
  
It was truthfully relieving to Terra to know that he didn't have to worry about _that_ at the moment. Maybe not even the rest of the day. That fact alone did help him relax a bit, but he didn't quite want to lay down. Far too much had happened in his few hours of consciousness for him to actually rest. **  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Waking up had been a chore all its own this morning. Terra hadn't been able to sleep hardly at all the previous night, the shock of Eraqus's death invading his mind constantly. He felt almost sick thinking about it all. Especially if he was right in who he saw walking away when he found Eraqus injured on the ground. How could someone that had been a close friend to Eraqus for  _ decades _ just suddenly betray him? On his own sword? It was disgusting. Infuriating. Unforgivable!

But now wasn't the time to dwell on it or get angry. It had been a close enough call with his own death. He didn't need to rush to conclusions and accuse another. It wasn't likely anyone would believe him anyways. After all, if his assumption of identity was correct, it was likely  _ he _ was the one that reported the crime in the first place. Making anything Terra said second and untrustworthy, no matter what he did to prove it.

No, he couldn't lie down and rest. He needed to think. And if the prince didn't have a set plan of what to do with him, then he would take the time to think. Though, part of him felt a constant sense of dread from being here. This place was unfamiliar and could be full of danger that he didn't know. He was a soldier. Trained to fight and ride horses and care for weapons. He wasn't suited for servitude of a more personal nature.

But... the prince had just said that he wasn't  _ for _ a personal nature. At least, not at the moment. So... what  _ did _ the prince want from him? Was it really just to be prolonged torture? Surely, the prince wouldn't have behaved like this if his intent was to be cruel. Then what was it? What was he here for?

Despite the whirlwind of questions, he tried to relax a little. His wound was cared for, his hands were unbound, and he was in a lavish bedroom with no pressing matters to attend to. So he could simply look around. At least try to familiarize himself with the place. Though... it was likely he'd spend the majority of his time here. So he'd learn the ins and outs of this room. So long as the prince was all right with that.

The servant hadn’t moved.

Isa had closed his eyes briefly, though he'd listened for any sign of the other man's movement. Even if it was just the creaking of the chaise as he laid down. When he'd heard nothing of the like, he'd cracked an eye open again and looked his servant over.

He wasn't moving, wasn't speaking, wasn't giving Isa anything at all to work with. And yet, his silence and immobility spoke for itself. Perhaps he was afraid of making some wrong move and incurring Isa's wrath . . . which was a fear entirely grounded in reality.

Of course, Isa was almost more upset with the silence. He'd wanted to save this man in part because of the  _ fire _ in his eyes -- where was that fire, now?

Hidden beneath a layer of caution, no doubt. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that the servant's mind was a flurry of thought. His eyes were moving around the room, though it wasn't in a way that looked as if he were trying to escape.

"What is it?" The prince found himself demanding. He couldn't take the silence, the stillness -- the not knowing. He'd tried to allow the other man time to show his intentions, but if he had to force a response then he absolutely would. "I'd imagine you've a lot to think about with what's happened to you. Tell me what you're thinking now, right at this moment. You have my permission to speak freely from here on."

Terra jolted slightly and looked at the prince. He hadn't expected to be suddenly spoken to, certainly not more sharply. And certainly not asking about his thoughts. Why would the prince care what he was thinking? He had no idea what to even do in his situation, so he had been trying to process the other thoughts in his mind, of which there were many. Apparently that wasn't what the prince wanted.

Speak freely? Hopefully that also meant he wouldn't immediately anger the prince by his words. He'd be careful with what he said anyways. It was better to be safe than headless. But the prince had asked for his thoughts.

"It's simply... a lot has happened in the past day, your Highness. I'm.. not quite sure how to react to it all," he said. That didn't seem like the sort of statement that would cause issues. Then again, he hadn't even known why the prince had even asked about his thoughts in the first place. So he had no idea how the prince would react.

When he thought about it, he truly knew nothing of the prince. The more he thought, the more he realized that it seemed no one really did. He had certainly been surprised several times in the past hour alone. The prince, as far as he knew, was silent before the court. Today he had spoken out to stop an execution. The prince seemed distant and uncaring. Today he had bandaged his wounds and unbound his hands. The prince had been thought to be ambitious and cunning. Today he had risked his own wellbeing to surmount the king's authority.

None of it made sense. It didn't add up. Perhaps it was just lack of knowledge, but none of this seemed like the actions of the same person. How was he to know what to do when face-to-face with an enigma?

Exactly what the prince should have expected. Another neutral, perfectly chosen and careful response. Terra was clearly still afraid of making him angry . . . a just fear, certainly, but also something that might be unavoidable.

Because Isa  _ was _ angry. Not at Terra specifically, but because Isa was  _ always _ angry.

He was tired. Tired of his father. Tired of bloodshed. He was tired of games, and tired of constantly doing damage control for his father's heinous policy implications and brutality.

The king signed an order to turn away refugees from nearby kingdoms under siege; simultaneously, several new shelters opened along the borders of the kingdom that fell in entirely neutral territory. The king raised tax rates to an unjust level for the already poor, starving majority of their kingdom; suddenly, several of the castle's treasures went mysteriously missing. Having so many already, the king wasn't likely to even notice.

That was how Isa operated, and it was entirely exhausting. He was stretched thin and, though his countenance was perpetually cold and stoic, it covered a perpetually simmering rage that had the unfortunate habit of coming out in harsh words and the occasional glare. He simply couldn't help it.

"You may react however you wish," The prince finally responded. His tone was stern, and guarded, but not outwardly cruel. "So long as it doesn't involve harming me, or attempting to escape. I assure you those orders are for your own safety, and you wouldn't last long at all should you attempt either. Otherwise, you may do as you wish for the moment -- I've called a servant to bring us dinner, but seeing as how the court expects us to still be rather  _ busy _ I doubt it will come quickly."

"I wouldn't attack you," Terra said quickly, maybe too quickly. He hadn't thought it through. He should have been careful, but he couldn't let the prince think he was in danger. "I.. I had sworn an oath to protect the crown. That includes you as the heir, your Highness. I may not really be a knight anymore, but I wouldn't do that." 

The words were hasty, yes, but they were also true at least. And every bit sincere. He had to make sure the prince could at least trust him in that sense. Yes, they were strangers, but he would remain loyal to his convictions. It didn't matter if he was technically no longer bound by the honor code of being in the royal guard. That was the code of his heart, of his life. Though, it was doubtful anyone would believe that now. Seeing as everyone now considered him a patricidal murderer.

Being fed was promising, even though it might not be for a while. He was glad to not be...  _ busy _ . They weren't going to be bothered either. So the worst that could happen right now was that the prince himself did something. Which, admittedly, was still a large danger, but the prince had said he wasn't going to  _ do _ anything to him. It made no sense. But hopefully, he could trust the prince's word. He would at least try to for now.

"And I know how well guarded this palace is, your Highness. I'm not going to try anything foolish," he said before looking at the floor. He sighed and looked back up before speaking again.

"You don't have anything you want me for?" he asked. If they had time and privacy, then maybe he could get answers. Anything to clear up this awful confusion and anxiety.

Terra's quick and perfect response certainly put another point towards the  _ loyal _ side of the argument that was raging in Isa's head. It was starting to seem more and more like the servant was some sort of victim of circumstance, who truly hadn't deserved his near death experience in the slightest. Still, there was always the chance that everything he was saying was simply some clever ruse to stay alive, and that he was simply biding his time until the opportune moment to retaliate.

If that was the case, he was a rather brilliant strategist and actor. Somehow, that seemed unlikely . . . but so did someone apparently as innocent and honorable as Terra was presenting committing the crime he'd been accused of.

Isa couldn't make sense of it in the slightest. But they had time. Terra's words had been a bit reassuring, at least, in their apparent sincerity. He shifted his hand a bit further away from the knife at his hip in response.

"No, not at the moment. I'll let you know if I do," He answered, deadpan. "I doubt you're in any sort of state to be doing much, at the moment. I'll allow you time to recover before I ask anything of you."

He then sighed, biting his tongue for a moment, and debated rather heavily with himself. Really, he  _ should _ keep whatever leverage he had over the other to keep him in line, but . . . something just wouldn't let him. He couldn't bear the thought of someone feeling that way, especially about  _ him. _ And Terra was clearly nervous. Hopefully this would lessen those nerves, even if just a bit. Though hopefully not enough to cause him to try anything.

Regardless, his tone was direct and a bit softer when next he spoke. "And just so you know, I'm never going to ask  _ that _ of you."

It was hard to tell whether or not the prince believed Terra. He knew, due to the perceived circumstances, he wasn't going to seem particularly trustworthy. If people thought he was a criminal, then they wouldn't believe anything he said. Especially due to the particular crime he was accused of. It didn't seem entirely fair to him, but that was simply how it was. The only way he could change that was by diligently doing whatever he was told. Convincing the prince of his honesty would likely go a long way in protecting his own life.

However, it seemed that he wouldn't get the opportunity yet. The prince didn't want anything of him? Then why even ask for him in the first place? That didn't make sense. The prince had risked his own standing to get him here, but the prince hadn't had a plan of what to do with him afterwards? Surely, that wasn't the case. The prince was just waiting before enacting whatever purpose he had for Terra.

The prince was... allowing him time to recover. That seemed very strange. Stories of some of the members of the courts' treatment of their servants filled his mind. Few ever waited on their servants' personal health improving before giving them some order. So why was the prince? Not only that... the prince had actually cared for the wound on his neck. Intentionally delaying any orders so that he was okay. That seemed impossible... but it was deeply appreciated.

The prince's last statement caused a look of confusion to cross Terra's face. Yet again, a stark contrast to what he'd ever heard about any noble. There was a reason the role was a  _ personal _ servant. Did the prince truly mean that? If he did, what did he want? There was no reason for the prince to lie to him. Not when the prince could do truly whatever he wanted.

Yet, even if it was a lie, he felt himself letting out a small sigh of relief. He quickly muffled it, but he hadn't been able to stop it from escaping. He looked at the prince, unable to hide gratitude from his eyes. Maybe he ought not to do that, but how could he not? He was alive, given time to heal, and wasn't going to be forced to do something he didn't know anything about or even want to do. How could he not be grateful?

"I... thank you, your Highness," he said, honestly in a bit of shock but clearly relieved, "I'll do my best to be at your service as soon as possible."

The look of sheer gratitude made Isa honestly a bit uncomfortable. By all accounts, this man should be angry at him. He should glare, either in anger or at the very least suspicion.

He shouldn't look at Isa like he was some sort of saint simply for not allowing him to die, and then refusing to brutalize him. It likely said something about the state of the rest of the court and how they treated their servants. All things that Isa would, hopefully, one day be able to change.

If that sigh was anything to go by, along with a visible release of a bit of tension, then Isa had succeeded in his goal of calming Terra down at least a bit. Perhaps he should have held onto that power, but. . .

No. He wasn't that sort of leader. He refused to keep another human being in line solely because they were afraid of being raped.

No matter the crime.

"Just take a moment to calm yourself," The prince replied with a small sigh of his own. "Later, I'll likely have you. . . clean something. But seeing as how everything's already in order, there's no need to rush. Are you alright? Any other injuries?"

He kept his tone neutral, betraying none of the mild concern he felt. Perhaps he just liked his  _ things _ to look nice.

Perhaps.

The more Terra thought about it, the more odd this situation was. But at least nothing bad was happening. In fact, all things considered, this was actually the best case scenario, aside from none of this happening in the first place. But that was far too much to hope for. Certainly considering what everyone likely now thought of him.

The prince kept asking about his well being. Which, honestly, didn't make much sense to him. The persistent question in his mind was  _ why does he care? _ Perhaps he shouldn't question it and accept it as a good thing. If the prince was at least considering his health, then that meant the prince likely wasn't going to do anything to damage it.

"No, I don't think so," he said, rubbing his wrists. There was no cut, but his wrists did still hurt a bit. Rope wasn't exactly the softest material to have against one's skin.

He glanced around the room again. What was he even going to  _ do _ in here? He saw bookshelves, so he supposed he could read whenever he was in here by himself. There wasn't really much else as far as the realm of entertainment, but he could probably be content with just reading. Especially considering how many books there were. Hopefully they weren't all just records or laws. That would be dreadfully boring.

Then another thought occurred to him. If the prince was truthfully not going to do anything of a specific nature to him... then where was he going to sleep? He assumed he was going to stay in here to sleep. Personal servants were also meant to act as continuous helpers, even at night should something be needed. So where? The floor was, like the majority of the castle, stone with a few rugs. That definitely wouldn't be comfortable. He supposed the chaise would be okay, if it weren't for the fact that he was so  _ tall _ . He didn't even consider the bed an option. That was where the prince slept. Not him.

Well, there was only one way to find out, he supposed.

"Your Highness, if you don't mind my asking," he said while looking back to the prince, "where am I to stay?"

Hopefully he wouldn't cause an issue by asking. The prince had said he could talk freely, right? Obviously, he was going to be careful, but, surely, there was no harm in asking that question, right? Maybe it was a bit too early in the day to really ask, but it was better to ask now than forget to later.

Oh.

Well.

That was a logical question, wasn't it? If only it was something Isa had thought about.

This had been a spur of the moment decision, and it was only just then starting to settle in for the prince what a permanent and involved decision it was. He had a stranger in his chambers he was expected to keep busy.

Every day. All day. And all night.

He didn't answer for a moment, sitting still and stoic with his legs crossed in front of him. This was the prince in a  _ reclined _ position, yet he still held himself in a controlled and regal demeanor.

"I'll have a cot brought for you," he finally replied. It was the easiest option. He'd been about to reply that Terra could sleep on the chaise, but. . . he wasn't exactly a small fellow. That seemed unnecessarily cruel.

He knew that the servant likely had expected to share Isa's bed, but had been thrown off by the prince's last statement. That was understandable.

"You'll stay within these chambers unless I tell you otherwise. Beyond that, you may do as you wish unless given a direct order. Provided that you don't harm me, or yourself. You may move freely unless I've told you differently."

Ok, a cot wasn't too bad. That wouldn't be that different from what Terra had had in the barracks anyways. So he could almost call it ideal. Except for how it was going to be strange simply sleeping in the same room as the prince anyways. He'd just have to deal with it. This was where he was supposed to stay.

It seemed that the prince was simply setting base rules. Seemed like a reasonable thing to do. Though, he had to admit, it was surprising that the prince was simply giving him so much free reign. Maybe it was just due to all the horror stories he had heard, but he had expected to be on a tight leash, at least at first. Not allowed to roam about the large, lavish bedroom however he pleased.

"Yes, your Highness," he replied while considering his options.

He did want to look around, but he also didn't want to appear as though he was trying to find a way out. He already knew it was foolish to try to escape, but that hadn't stopped people in the past, especially criminals. Everyone considered him a criminal, so he'd get the same treatment as one if he tried to escape. Though, he'd never flee from something. His own stubborn pride simply didn't allow it.

Well, at least he could investigate the room a little bit.

After a moment, he stood, slowly, and crossed the room to the bookshelf. He tried to not just aimlessly look at things, but it was hard not to. Despite his nervousness, he was oddly fascinated with the room around him. He'd never seen many of these sorts of things before. Everything seemed so intricately detailed in a way that truly showed the care the maker had put into each item. How could he not appreciate that?

The freedom that Isa had given was entirely intentional. He wanted to see what Terra would do with it. Otherwise, they'd likely sit here just staring at each other until Isa finally thought of a task to give him.

The best way to figure out what exactly was going on with this man was to watch him. Listen to him. Try to get a read on the situation, and then Isa could figure out where to go from there.

There was the chance, of course, that Terra  _ would _ prove to be the traitor and killer that he'd been accused of. In such an eventuality, Isa might likely have to have him back on the block. But he didn't want to -- he  _ very _ much didn't want to. Such an eventuality would be the very last resort.

He watched, intently, while keeping his posture neutral. Where Terra looked first would give him a hint as to the servant's intentions. Whether he examined Isa's weapons case. . . or the window. . . or any of his workbenches, for tools or incriminating information.

But Terra went to his bookshelf, and Isa was left stunned.

He was looking at the most innocuous little things. . . almost as if he was simply admiring the room's beauty rather than looking for anything specific. It was odd.

It put another point in the  _ not a traitor _ corner. Though Isa would still have to be cautious, of course.

"Do you like to read?" He rumbled nonchalantly, continuing to eye the other as he moved.

Terra startled out of his thought from the question. He glanced back at the prince. He was being directly addressed after all, that was just manners. Manners which were likely more important to a prince than to most people. So it was better to be polite and make somewhat eye contact.

"Oh, somewhat. I haven't read much recently, but I was just looking, your Highness," he answered, looking a bit shy about the answer.

He scanned the shelf, carefully and quickly reading each title. He noticed a few were in a different language. Luckily, still one he recognized. Eraqus had insisted he knew how to read both the language of their country and another neighboring country that was closely tied to theirs. He had never understood why it was important for a soldier to know how to read this well, but he had done it anyway.

"You have.. quite a selection, your Highness. I've read at least one of them before," he said, hoping that added a bit to his answer. He didn't want to under-answer a question and make something sound suspicious. Or would giving  _ too _ much detail be suspicious? Ugh, could he not be on edge for two moments?

Terra had honestly given just the right amount of detail to surprise the prince again. He blinked, slowly, as he tried to process the servant's words. He truly was. . . looking over books. Not looking for a way to fight. Not looking for an escape.

Looking at  _ books. _

It wasn't common, either, for soldiers to know how to read. At least the lower ranking ones. Though, with Terra's father being who he'd been, it wasn't surprising that Terra was at least a bit versed. Though the sort of books Isa kept weren't those that would interest the majority of people. They were primarily historical accounts, of his own kingdom and of those with which they were allied or opposed. It was only right to study them, after all. The remaining volumes were books of poetry; a hobby Isa had adopted at a young age and one in which he rarely had the opportunity to indulge.

". . . I suppose I do," he murmured. This was. . . odd, to say the least. But if all his new servant was interested in were  _ books, _ Isa saw no harm in keeping them from him. There wasn't anything particularly dangerous in their contents, after all. "You may choose one to read, if you wish. On condition that you turn away from it should I have a job for you."

It made sense if Terra could freely roam the room that he'd be allowed to interact with everything in it. Including books. Apparently not the sword, but books were obviously ok. The allowance still shocked him anyways. Were his expectations for how he was going to be treated really that low?

Maybe he should be thinking this through a bit more. The prince hadn't given him a reason to be this cautious, he was just going off assumptions. Then again, he should still be a little careful. He was technically a criminal that was under the prince's direct control. If he stepped out of line somehow, the prince could easily order him back to the executioner's block.

But... so far, there hadn't been any lines. The prince had said he could speak freely and roam around freely. The only limit was not to cause harm to either of them and not to run away. Which seemed to be very low bar rules. After that, it was just "wait for further instruction". And he knew what one of those instructions  _ wouldn't _ be.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that nothing bad was going to happen. For now at least. Maybe it was a bit too trusting, but he wanted to believe it.

"Of course, you Highness. Thank you," he said. He glanced over the books again. There wasn't anything particularly interesting. He'd read some of the histories, and he had found most of them dreadfully boring. All except... one.

He pulled out one of the volumes that seemed truly random, but he knew this was the right book. The story within it read more like a legend than as history, but it had all really happened. The kind of story that you didn't forget and enjoyed each time you heard it. It had to be in this book. It was the book Eraqus had had.

If looking at the books had been a ruse of some sort, the prince was prepared to see Terra decline the offer. But he didn't. He'd chosen a book from the shelf, and seemed to be genuinely interested in what it contained.

Well, that was simply odd.

Still, he'd given the offer. He shouldn't be so surprised the offer had been accepted. Though he was a bit surprised by the book that Terra had chosen. It was one that Isa had spent the least amount of time reading out of his collection.

Right as he was about to comment, the prince heard a knock at the door, and quickly rose to receive the handmaiden. Before doing so, he made sure his shirt was a bit undone and plastered a grimace to his face as if he'd been  _ interrupted _ doing something. He spoke with her briskly, keeping the door open only just as wide as it had to be in order to receive the trunk and little tray of food that the servants had brought. Isa drugged them inside himself, dismissed the rest of his servants, and then re-locked the door.

"Bring it with you," He ordered as he carried the tray to the low table between the chaises. "But come eat a bit. I doubt you had the chance to do so before your arrest." The trunk was momentarily forgotten -- but would be addressed after breakfast.

"What's the book you've chosen?" It was a tone that demanded an answer. The prince didn't know how to speak any other way. He was simply curious.

Terra held the book carefully, as if knowing it was likely old and expensive. Well, books were expensive anyways, but a book with a more ornate and strong cover and binding was likely even more so. He certainly didn't want to risk damaging it. Especially not since it was such an important kind of book. History was the best to learn from, even if it did get dreadfully boring.

He walked back to the chaise and sat down. It wasn't that surprising that he was being told to sit and eat. The prince had said he'd requested food for the both of them. He didn't, however, expect the prince to allow him to eat  _ with _ him. This day just kept getting weirder.

Pulling the book to the side, he looked at the food. He had no idea what was meant for him, so he'd wait for the prince to get his own first. Even if it was true that he hadn't gotten to eat before being arrested. Plus, now that initial shock was wearing away, he was starting to feel hungry.

"One of the histories, your Highness," he said, there was no point  _ not _ to answer especially when the prince insisted on receiving one, "there's one story I like. One of the old queens that became a legend of sorts. Or, at least, that's how it seemed to me when I first heard the story."

The story only sounded vaguely familiar to Isa, but the description had been sort of vague. Terra was being incredibly polite, still, both in how he'd responded and in the way he waited for the prince to eat first.

He certainly  _ acted _ like a soldier. . . it was getting harder and harder to distrust him. And somehow, that made Isa trust him less. Perhaps he was simply paranoid; overthinking things, as it were. But he was unable not to. It was how he'd survived this long while doing the things he'd needed to.

"How exactly did it seem to you?" the prince asked while taking his desired portion from the tray. Afterwards, he nudged the rest towards his servant. "You may eat. Tell me what of the plot you remember, and why this story stood out to you."

If he could just get Terra talking . . . maybe he could finally figure out what his read on the other man exactly was.


	4. Chapter 4

At this point in the day, Terra had just accepted that everything would feel strange. All he could do at this point was roll with it and hope it all ended up ok. So far, most of his primary concerns with this arrangement had been relieved. He had everything he needed. The prince hadn't done anything to him physically, in any sense. Now the prince just seemed like he was trying to make conversation, even though it felt like he was being interrogated.

The prince just wanted to hear about the story he liked. There shouldn't be any reason to feel worried. Plus, it was likely that once he started talking, the prince would remember the story. It was part of the histories after all. And this one seemed the type of story that people would  _ want _ to tell over and over.

"I don't remember it entirely, but it was maybe a century ago that this happened," Terra started, looking across the food, trying to decide if he should eat something now. It'd probably be better to wait so he didn't have food in his mouth while he spoke.

"There was a king that... truthfully wasn't a very good king that had become fixated on myths of elixirs of immortality and endless youth. He became obsessed, sending many of his children on dangerous missions to find or learn to make this potion. Few returned, and the ones that did, were executed for failing," he said.

"One of the younger princesses saw what was happening and was scared. Eventually she would be sent on a mission despite her youth, and she would die. But one of the nobles of the court, her tutor, knew what was coming also and hid her, along with her younger full brother. The three escaped, and the princess grew up in the noble's home, learning and preparing for the inevitable downfall of her father."

"It took years, but that day came. She was now an adult, if even just barely. And the king had run out of children to send to their deaths. Heirless and old, many in the court saw this as an opportunity. Including the noble that housed the princess, though, his intent wasn't selfish like the others."

"The king died. It was uncertain how. Some claimed age and illness while other claimed assassins. Regardless, there now sat an empty throne in a room of people that wished to fill it. Near immediately, the noble jumped into action, preparing then bringing the princess to court. There was resistance, but, eventually, the High Counselor decreed that she was the new queen."

"The first nearly ten years of her rule was full of attempted assassinations, nearly successful coups, and all sorts of attacks from other countries, but she stood firm. She led her own troops to battle. She knew how to cure herself of poisons. She always slept with a knife in her hand and another at her waist. And, eventually, things calmed."

"Her brother became the commander of the armies and may have been the only person she truly trusted. But despite the hardships, the country became stronger because of her. Once infighting ceased and other countries learned she would not be taken, she was able to fix nearly everything in the kingdom that her father had ruined."

"Soldiers drove out dangerous mercenaries and obvious spies. Order was brought back to places that were in desperate need of it. She was able to pull the kingdom from the edge of collapse to the beginning of what I think the book called the Sapphire Reign of her and her immediate few descendants."

"I suppose I found it inspiring," he finished, looking timid from talking so much.

An unfair king . . . infighting in the kingdom. . . fighting, and careful plotting for a better future. . . a rebellious heir with a blade on their hip. . .

Isa found himself running a hand over his own knife before continuing to eat his breakfast, listening carefully as Terra finished the story. He certainly knew it well, which meant he was likely well-versed in the kingdom's history. 

"Yes, the Sapphire Reign . . . " He muttered with a nod. "I'm aware of it. I've heard the tale itself before, but there's of course no way to verify it's not a mere legend. Or at the very least embellished. Those we call heroes are very rarely quite as perfect and admirable as we hold them to be in history texts -- after all, they were plagued with the same unfortunate condition of humanity that we are, ourselves."

He took a sip of tea from one of the cups on the tray, grimacing when he tasted how weak it was. Deciding to simply swirl the liquid while staring at it, instead, he found himself reflecting further on what Terra had said.

"You seem to have a far different outlook on the story, yourself. Tell me -- what exactly about it  _ inspires _ you? Rather, what does it inspire you to do?"

While the prince was talking, Terra figured now would be his chance to eat something small. Something he could chew and swallow quickly so that he was reading to respond when the prince stopped talking. Hearts, everything that Eraqus had ever taught him about manners was suddenly echoing in his head. Maybe Eraqus had been right. Those etiquette evenings really  _ did _ end up useful.

"Well, you're right that it probably isn't a completely accurate history, your Highness. As far as I know it was the noble that wrote it, so it may be biased," he said with a small chuckle, despite himself, "I like to think the events were much like that."

The question gave him pause. Well... there were a lot of answers to that question, and some of the answers were only part of the question. He quickly tried to think of a coherent explanation, but he'd never been very good with words. Whatever came out of his mouth would have to do.

"It's exciting in a way that makes you want to do something similar to the Queen. Protect someone. Fix wrongs. Help others. As well as becoming strong and clever," he said, trying to make  _ some _ sense, "it's just admirable that she started as a fearful child then came out a fearless queen. Not to mention the loyalty shown between the queen and her brother. Some stories have younger heirs overtake their older siblings, but that isn't how it is here. Those two were actually family."

Once again, Terra's words spoke of nothing but nobility and honorable goals. It made absolutely no sense. . . not with the crime that Terra had been accused of. There was zero chance that anything he was saying was genuine. Not at all. People who killed their own family didn't typically seek to protect others, nor help them, nor  _ fix _ anything -- well, not people who had family like  _ Eraqus _ had been. People with family like Isa's were debatable. 

But . . . if those feelings Terra was expressing  _ were _ genuine. . . Isa was very glad he hadn't let such admirable qualities be taken away with Terra's life in the form of that blood-stained block. 

"Right . . . family," He nodded, slowly, and crossed his legs at the knee. "Important, family. Though, I suppose I wouldn't know, having no siblings of my own. I've no question as to my inheritance of the throne." No matter what opinion certain court members, including the king himself, had about that fact. "And what of you? Do you find  _ family _ important?"

It was a sore question, and he knew it. But he was hoping that pressing a bit more would help him figure the other man out more. Somehow, he'd only grown more confused so far. If he could shift the conversation to Terra's family, he might be able to find out more about what had actually happened.

Terra knew where that question was leading. Only a blind person wouldn't be able to see it, but the verbal nuisances would have still allowed them to figure it out. He had opened the door to that question. So now he had to face it. It was inevitable really. Maybe the prince had only spared him out of curiosity. He had tried to object before being gagged, after all. 

"I know what you're thinking, your Highness," he said, looking a bit more tired as he stared at the floor, "I doubt you'll believe me, and I can't hold it against you. I know who likely led the allegations against me, and he would be considered a more trustworthy source. But... I didn't do it. I swear I didn't." 

He clenched his jaw. The possibility of  _ anyone _ believing him was low. Even the chance that Aqua would believe him seemed impossible. But what could he do other than try to tell the truth? No one would listen, but he would speak honestly. He hated lying anyways.

"My family  _ is _ important. It always has been, your Highness," he said, quietly. Though, he doubted they felt the same towards him now.

What followed Terra's heartfelt explanation was simply a few tense moments of silence. The prince's expression was entirely unreadable, though his gaze was unwavering as he kept it fixed on the other's face.

It certainly seemed like there was more to this story than what any other member of the court was inclined to comprehend. Of course, Terra could still be lying. People lied all the time, shifting blame to others in order to protect themselves. 

But Isa didn't think that's what was happening, here. The clenching of the jaw, the quiet voice, the insistent words that didn't sound at all scripted. Once again, he found himself thinking that Terra was either entirely innocent, or utterly brilliant. Both of which were, quite frankly, intriguing. 

"Forgive me if caution keeps me from absolving all suspicion," He finally declared. His tone was neutral; neither comforting nor cruel. "But I'll choose to believe you, for the moment. At least, enough to keep you alive."

A brief flash of genuine shock passed Terra's face. The prince was going to believe him? Well.. somewhat believe him. Being alive was enough for now. And, who knew, maybe he could genuinely convince the prince of his innocence and be freed. That seemed unlikely, but it was a possibility.

"I wouldn't expect you to believe me entirely, your Highness," he said, looking up only slightly, "I do appreciate anything you believe for now. I am grateful to be alive."

He doubted he could really eat now, after that. His emotions were high, and it was making him feel a bit sick. He needed to better control himself. But it was hard to do that when certain memories were starting to surface. Such as Eraqus, weak and bleeding in his arms, telling Terra to take care of their family. A task that was now impossible to fulfill. He couldn't even visit Eraqus's grave to apologize.

The sick feeling wasn't likely to go away anytime soon. He would just endure the questions and hope the subject in question changed. Though, he doubted it would.

Every bit of what Terra was saying certainly sounded genuine. Isa was finding himself thinking that more and more. 

"No gratitude necessary. There are many in your position who would rather be dead," He answered honestly. Glancing over the other for a moment, he took note of his unease and the mostly uneaten meal. There likely wasn't anything that Isa could do to ease the myriad of emotions that the servant was feeling . . . 

. . . Distantly, the prince wondered why he even cared.

"I hope I don't inspire that same feeling," he continued, then sighed and moved to stand before dragging the wooden trunk further into the room. "I'm going to call for a cot for you. In the meantime, you're going to need to. . . take on a new uniform, as it were. You may wear anything you find in this trunk, but  _ only _ what you find in the trunk. Am I understood?" 

Part of him hated to do this, but he at least needed to keep up the appearance of keeping what was essentially a pleasure slave.

When the prince implied that this truly was a fate worse than death, Terra couldn't help but tense. He supposed he'd heard enough stories from other guards about the state such servants were occasionally found to know he  _ should _ be scared. This wasn't a safe position to be in. Even if he wasn't dead, he was at the mercy of whoever... owned... him. Completely at the will of someone that was more likely to be cruel than gentle.

For some reason, he didn't feel as scared of the prince as he likely should. So far, the prince had unbound him, allowed him to speak freely, allowed him to move around and interact with the room, and get him a meal. The only negative thing the prince had done was simply the mistrust. Which was truly justified considering the circumstances.

A new negative was quickly found, however. As he knelt to the ground to look through the chest of clothes (saying "yes, your Highness" before doing so), he quickly realized a common theme. It really shouldn't have been that surprising considering what he was  _ supposed _ to be now. Much of the clothing... appeared to be missing pieces. Though, he knew that each hole and opening in the fabric was intentional.

He swallowed hard while looking through all the clothes. Surely, there was something that was...  _ mostly _ covering, right? Like, clothing he'd wear if he left this room? He wouldn't have to go out in some of these things in  _ public _ , right?

The prince had said that he wasn't interested in Terra for...  _ that _ . So why the clothes? It made no sense, but he had no choice than to just do it.

He eventually found what he deemed as good as he was going to get. Which included a loose, maroon, undershirt with an unnecessarily large opening in the front which was edged with ruffles. Then a set of pants, which was a loose definition. The pants were black, and the outer seams were just strings, lacing the two pieces of fabric together. And these were the  _ least _ revealing things here.

"Where should I..." he started to ask, feeling timid and embarrassed.

The revealing nature of the clothes was quite known to the prince. To be quite honest, he didn't particularly find the idea appealing, himself. But they had roles to play. While he was being lenient in his treatment of his servant, this was one area in which he couldn't bend. Not without attracting incredible amounts of unwanted attention. If someone entered and saw Terra, or if Isa had to send him out to get something, he'd have to look like he was being  _ used _ appropriately.

The thought made Isa sick. But he had no choice. 

He did, however, have a choice in how he answered that question. Most nobles would have had their servants change unabashedly in front of them, without the dignity of even a shred of privacy. Even if they weren't being used for their bodies, it was rare for involuntary servants to be granted any measure of humanity.

Isa simply didn't have it in him to do that. He was cruel on occasion, certainly -- but not unnecessarily so. And the last thing he was going to do was exploit someone vulnerable. 

For that reason, he nodded towards a screen on the far side of the room. "You may change behind there," He replied, unable to miss the shy tone to Terra's voice. He wouldn't take advantage of it. After all, he'd half expected the clothes to have broken whatever sort of act the other was putting on, and find himself cursed at and the clothing refused.

Oh, thank goodness.

The unbridled relief that rushed through Terra was obvious. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and his fists weren't as tightly clenched and pulled towards his chest. Yes, he still very much didn't like that he was going to have to wear this stuff, but at least he wouldn't have to change in front of another person. That would have made this whole situation so much worse.

He quickly stood and walked behind the screen. Now he had to actually put this on. And then wear it casually. In front of another person. How was he supposed to do this?

But then there was the question of  _ why _ . Why was the prince allowing him this privilege of privacy? As well as saying they weren't doing anything of  _ that _ nature? Then still making him wear these sorts of clothes? It didn't really make sense. What did the prince really want from him? It didn't seem to be anything specific at the moment, except for maybe answers.

He quickly changed, trying his best to pull his shirt at least  _ somewhat _ closed. Which was apparently impossible to do, leaving his chest on display. These pants were all sorts of impractical, but he figured he wouldn't really be doing anything that required functional clothing. If he was just going to stay in this room, he could endure it. It could be worse, after all.

He stepped back out, now back to being entirely unsure of what to do with himself. "Is there anything you wish of me, your Highness?" he said, not looking at the prince.

Oh.

Well.

Terra certainly looked the part. 

Right as the prince had turned to answer his question, Isa was struck silent for a second by the other man's appearance. The color of the shirt suited his skin tone perfectly -- Isa had ample opportunity to assess that, seeing as how so much of Terra's skin was  _ bared. _ A good deal of chest was visible through the opening of his shirt, as well as the top portion of his stomach. 

Then there were his  _ legs _ \-- 

Before he could truly take note of the way the pants' lacing complimented the strong muscles beneath them, Isa realized what he was doing and promptly shut those thoughts down. He'd sworn he wouldn't take advantage of his servant -- the last thing he should do now was ogle him.

So he looked away with an air of disinterest, as if he couldn't care less what the other man looked like. "Find a section of the room and clear it away to make room for your cot," was his order. It seemed reasonable -- and it would give the other something to  _ do _ for a moment.

It really helped that the prince wasn't staring at him. Terra wasn't sure how much his emotional state could take. He was already stressed, confused, sad, and a little bit afraid. He didn't need embarrassment or any sort of discomfort on top of it. The clothing alone was doing enough of that without him being stared at.

He still didn't know why any of this was happening. It seemed like curiosity was the most likely answer. The prince wanted to know more about either the man that had committed such a high crime or how someone could be so successfully accused of such a thing and it be false. He just needed to convince the prince of his innocence while giving no other reason to be executed.

Which meant keeping his head down and following orders. Even if that meant wearing clothing that he never would under normal circumstances, or nearly any circumstances save this one it seemed. He could follow orders. That was what he had always been expected to do as a soldier. Though these orders were of a wildly different nature, they were still orders, and he'd figure out some way to manage it.

So he set to work. It only took a moment to determine which corner would be the best for him to stay in. It wasn't in the way of the bookshelves, nor the door. The only thing he could possibly be considered blocking was one of the windows of the room, but there were several windows. Thus, he wasn't stopping anyone from looking out the window.

It only took a moment to move a chair with a small table beside it. Just enough space for a cot, or, at least, how big he imagined the cot would be. He could fit it later if he needed to, when it was actually here.

Was this going to be how it was all day? Just wanting for the prince to talk to him and tell him what to do even though it was obvious neither one of them knew what they ought to be doing? None of this made sense, and he had no idea how to react to it. He just hoped he'd get a chance to talk to Aqua.

The prince was silent as Terra worked, distantly aware of him but primarily lost in his own thoughts. 

What on earth was he going to  _ do _ with a personal servant? Regardless of whether or not Terra turned out to be guilty, Isa didn't have any true purpose for keeping him. If Terra  _ was _ guilty, and this all turned out to be some sort of manipulation, he'd have to find a way to contain him effectively. Even in that instance, Isa couldn't bear the thought of sending him back to die -- not unless the servant actually tried to harm him.

In the event that Terra  _ wasn't _ guilty . . . well, there was no way at all that Isa was going to let him lose his head. Which meant he'd potentially have to keep the man like this indefinitely, or at the very least until he became king and was able to change some sort of law and pardon him. Unless he somehow helped him escape . . . which was far too risky. 

Well, there was no point in dwelling on it until he knew for certain if Terra even  _ was _ innocent. There were still far too many unknowns. Not to mention Terra had chosen to place his bed by a window. . . that could prove to be an issue, though this chamber was many stories above the ground.

Isa resolved himself to take things moment by moment, and soon the servant returned with Terra's cot, which the prince helped maneuver into the corner that had been cleared. Following that, he moved to his own chest and began pulling out spare linens and blankets, which he handed to the other to use.   
  
“Take the rest of the day to fix your bed and recover from the day's events," Was his briskly given order. "You may read if you want to, and come to me if you have any pressing needs. Otherwise, I'm going to get some work done. Kindly busy yourself however you see fit, so long as you remain contained, don't damage anything, and don't disturb my work unless necessary." He then moved to his desk and began writing, quill moving quickly as he drafted letters and plans over a territorial dispute.


	5. Chapter 5

And that's how it had ended up. The whole day.

No talking unless absolutely required. Not even when they ate. The prince seemed entirely intent on ignoring him. Terra was quickly figuring out that he  _ hated _ silence. It was awful. But he couldn't do anything to stop it either. The prince had said not to bother him unless it was important. Just needing companionship didn't seem important enough.

So he just sat. In silence. The whole day. At least he had the books to look at. But, he also really only knew of one thing he  _ liked _ to read, and it got boring reading the whole thing over and over. The prince didn't try to ask questions or talk like before. Probably because he had important princely duties, but it was still unbearable.

It was a relief to see the sunset from the window. He sat on his bed just staring outside, lost in thought. None of the thoughts were about escape, he was too smart for that.

His thoughts were focused on, instead, what he  _ should _ have been doing right now. Riding back home with Aqua on his horse. They race a few times on the path to Eraqus's estate, and then they both argue over who won, even when it was obvious. Then they'd be home and eat dinner with Ven.

Ven. Oh hearts, Aqua was going to have to go home and tell Ven. Ven spent so much time alone at the house. They knew them coming home was the highlight of Ven’s day. But now he wasn't coming home. And Aqua had to tell him  _ why _ .

He repressed those thoughts until the prince had actually settled into bed. He didn't want to get emotional in front of the prince. He couldn't do that. He didn't know what reaction it would invoke. So, only once he felt the prince was asleep, did he actually let any emotion out.

It didn't take long for his emotions to spill out across his pillow to the point where he had to bury his face in it to remain quiet. Luckily, he'd found a way to  _ mostly _ control it. The tears still fell but far more quietly. He decided he wasn't likely to sleep and just resorted to staring out the window.

There were a few torches that allowed him to see the courtyard far below. There were guards walking past occasionally. Actually... there was only one guard. The same guard. Appearing to pace at the base of the tower where the prince's room was.

Oh no.

As quietly and carefully as possible, Terra undid the latch and opened the window. If he was silent and quick this shouldn't be a problem. Just a short chat to ease her nerves and his. No problem. No problem whatsoever.

So, carefully watching the prince for any sort of reaction, he climbed out of the window and slowly made his way down the side of the tower.

In actuality, the "work" that Isa had been doing had run out fairly quickly, and he'd started struggling to find ways to busy himself. As it was, he'd gotten several days ahead, as well as taken a myriad of notes on things he'd never actually have the chance to put into action. 

But he'd had no other choice. He'd had to keep busy, not thinking too hard about the other person in the room with him. It had all gotten incredibly exhausting rather quickly, and the prince wasn't used to having another person in such close quarters with him for this long. Let alone one who was still so much of a mystery. 

So, he'd essentially ignored the man for the rest of the night. He had nothing else to offer, and he didn't want to feel as if he owed him an explanation for anything that had happened -- though he was certain Terra wanted one. That wasn't something he would have -- not until Isa had figured him out. 

Perhaps it wasn't the most clever thing in the world, but it had happened, and it had been the prince's best choice. Eventually, he'd put out the lanterns and settled down to go to bed, not doing more to undress than taking off his boots. He refused to put himself into a more vulnerable position than he already was. 

In fact, although he'd laid down, the prince had no intention of sleeping. Not when Terra could easily attack him while he was unconscious. He'd take the opportunity to see if the other made a move. 

At least. . . that was the plan. Unfortunately, the day caught up to him, and the prince drifted into slumber, though it was incredibly shallow and fitful. 

So fitful, in fact, that he woke up a bit of time later at the feeling of wind on his face. That was. . . odd. Why on earth was . . . ?

The window.

Isa's eyes snapped open in moments and he sat up in bed, blinking in the moonlight and cursing as he noticed Terra's cot was empty. And the window was open. He tossed his covers to the side and moved rapidly towards that very window, leaning out into the night and letting out another curse when he saw hide nor hair of his missing servant. 

Of course -- he'd been an absolute idiot to believe Terra wouldn't be able to scale the wall. He'd been a high ranking  _ soldier. _

The question was, what to do  _ now. _ Isa backed away from the window, hands tangling in his own hair, and raced through the possibilities. If he called the guards, he could send them out on Terra's trail -- but they'd certainly kill him as soon as they found him. Somehow, Isa wasn't certain he wanted that, even in light of this betrayal. 

So he paced, trying to develop his own cover story for having lost his servant, and hating himself for having been so foolish.

The moment Terra's feet had touched the ground, he had been grabbed and dragged to a smaller, side courtyard. The small space only really had a well and was surrounded by walls. No windows faced it, making it likely the most private area they could possibly hope to get. No one would notice them if they spoke softly and stayed out of sight from the entrance.

Once in private, Aqua immediately faced Terra, looking serious and maybe even scared.

"Tell me, right now, Terra," she demanded, fists clenched, "did you? You couldn't have, but I have to hear it from you. Did you kill Eraqus?"

He had expected this. And, in all honesty, he was glad it was happening this soon. At least he could set it right with Aqua, and she could go home and tell Ven the truth too. So long as his family was on his side, he could endure anything.

"No, Aqua. I didn't. I'll admit, we were fighting, but I would have never killed him. You know that," he said, gentle and sincere. It was obvious from Aqua's eyes that she believed him, or at the very least  _ wanted _ to believe him.

"Then how? How is he dead, and why are you blamed for it?" she asked, grabbing the sleeves of his shirt.

"When Eraqus and I stopped fighting, I stepped away to get our horses. And... when I got back to where he was, someone had put his own sword through his back. I only saw the back of someone fleeing. I wanted to chase after them, but Eraqus called for me. I... I couldn't let him die by himself," he said, getting choked up as he spoke, tears forming yet again.

Aqua gasped then shook her head, tears beginning to fall again. It hadn't been her first time crying today either. She loosened her grip on his sleeves and resorted to resting her hands on his arms while leaning forward to rest her head against his chest.

"And then the true criminal framed you... You tried to object this morning, in front of everyone. But they stopped you," she said quietly.

He immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in a hug. "Please believe me, Aqua. I would have  _ never _ ," he whispered, hiding his face from her.

"I know, Terra, I know," she said, giving in and hugging him back, "I'm just... glad you're not dead. Even if... this isn't the ideal situation...."

They talked for a short while after that. Terra told Aqua all about the events of the day, and she agreed that it all seemed... odd. Especially when she noticed his clothes. So long as he was alive and not doing anything unpleasant, it couldn't be horrible. It could certainly be worse. They discussed what she should tell Ven, deciding it would be better to say that both Terra and Eraqus were on a trip. Neither of them could bear to tell Ventus the whole truth.

"Please, be safe," Aqua finally whispered, pressing her forehead against Terra's, "please."

"I will be," he said back, "now get home. Ven will be waiting for you."

Then, after a final, tight hug, Aqua left.

He waited a moment before checking for other guards and leaving himself. Hopefully the prince was still asleep, and he could climb back into the room before anyone noticed he was gone. He could get a small amount of sleep and endure tomorrow.

Once he made it back to the windowsill of the room, he climbed back in and sat down, trying to catch his breath quietly. It was hard to see in the dark room after his eyes had adjusted to torchlight. It didn't matter anyways. He hoped to fall asleep quickly…

The longer Isa thought about it, the more he realized how truly disastrous this was.

If he didn't call the guards and send them on Terra's trail, it would reflect horribly on him. He would have somehow managed to lose the very first personal servant he'd taken on, and after raising such a fuss to claim him in the first place.

At best, he'd appear negligent and idiotic. At worst, he could be accused of aiding the criminal in his escape. After speaking up to save him in the first place, the latter was incredibly likely. This would undermine every bit of authority and influence he'd have  _ left _ . . . gods, the king might even see it as enough of an offense to have him punished. He couldn't  _ physically _ execute his son, of course, but Isa had no doubt he could use this as a way to keep him out of all important affairs in the new future. Perhaps even keep him under heavy guard.

No. . . Isa wouldn't stand for that. He  _ couldn't _ let that happen. It would destroy everything he'd been building.

He'd have to send the guards.

But the guards would kill Terra as soon as they found him. 

Isa couldn't let  _ that _ happen, either. He didn't know why -- but he couldn't bear the thought. 

The best solution he could think of was to wait until morning, then wake in a feigned panic and call the guards then. Perhaps Terra would have made it far enough away, then -- or perhaps he'd already been caught. At least he would stand a chance, and Isa didn't feel like he was sending a potentially innocent man to his death.

Damn it.  _ Damn it. _

How had he let this happen? He  _ had _ been idiotic. He should have bolted the windows -- he never should have fallen asleep.

Seething, thoughts racing, he leaned back against the wall near the window, a hand braced wearily against his forehead. That's the position in which he remained, until a myriad of soft sounds prompted him to look up. 

When he did, his thoughts came to a sudden halt. 

Terra was here. He'd come back.

Perhaps that should have been a relief. . . but as it was, the flurry of thoughts and feelings the prince went through had left him with only one -- a simple feeling, easy to understand, and easy to express. 

Pure, unbridled  _ rage. _

The prince stood tall, regal and intimidating despite his dress, and stepped forward into the beam of moonlight that was shining through the window. His face was hard, eyes cold and betraying his simmering anger, and his voice was strong and intimidating when he spoke. 

_ "Where. Were you?" _

Terra's emotions were already thoroughly exhausted for the night, maybe even the rest of the week. He just wanted to breathe evenly and then fall asleep. No more thinking. No more stress. No more high emotion. He was done with that for the night.

Or at least, he had thought that he was.

Movement had caught his eye first, and he quickly looked at the person moving towards him. Only for him to realize, with dread, that it was the prince. Awake. And very obviously mad. The sharp words only sealed the image in his mind. The prince had known he had left and was  _ furious _ about it.

Even if he was taller physically, he felt impossibly small under the prince's imposing figure and intense glare. He couldn't help from flinching back and shrinking slightly. This was going to end badly. He should have just written a note and dropped it to Aqua. He was so foolish!

"I... forgive me, your Highness," he said, unable to keep back the entirety of his fear.

Could he say he was talking to Aqua? Or would that get Aqua in trouble? He could at least stall until he was sure Aqua was gone, but that might not be enough. Not to mention, the prince might get angry if he  _ didn't _ give any explanation. And if the prince got angry, anything could happen. None of it good.

The prince was  _ beyond _ angry.

Or rather, everything else he'd been feeling was far too confusing and too  _ much _ to process, so it was manifesting itself in the only way it knew how. Really, Isa had been incredibly worried. He hadn't wanted anything bad to happen to Terra, for reasons he couldn't quite comprehend. He'd been worried for himself, and of the inevitable fallout that could have come from losing his servant after causing such a disruption to keep him. 

Now, there was a small measure of relief. But all that relief did was cause inhibition in the rest of his emotions, which had broken free like an overflowing pot. The only thing that Isa understood how to show, how to process, and how to feel was this horrible anger. Made worse now by the fact that Terra hadn't even bothered to answer his question. 

And it was burning. Because, more than anything, Isa felt betrayed.

"Is this how you repay my kindness?" He demanded, voice dropping to a snarl as he strode forward to loom over the other man. He was imposing, and he knew it -- and he was holding  _ nothing _ back. 

"I stop your execution, take you in, offer you food and safety, and you have the  _ audacity _ to steal away into the night?" As he spoke, his eyes narrowed, lips pulling back from his teeth. "Is that how grateful you are for the courtesy I've shown you? Tell me why the hell I should have even bothered. 

"You know very well what awaits you out there, yet you seem to have round my company so repulsive that you'd rather face it anyway. Why on earth should I keep you, then? Why should I have claimed you in the first place, if you're so eager to  _ die? _ " 

He  _ barely _ refrained from reaching forward to grab the other man's shirt and drag him to his feet. That isn't what this criminal deserved, and Isa refused to stoop to his level. He was angry, hurt, and slightly out of his right mind, which only made his words come out more harsh. 

_ "Is that what you want? To face the axe, again? Shoved down before a blood-stained block without a chance in hell of defending yourself, because that can certainly be arranged. Is that what you were so desperate to find that you had to spit in the face of my protection? You want to be sentenced to damnation, this time secure in the knowledge that you've managed to scorn the one person in power who had any desire to save you?" _

It felt as though Terra already faced death. An angry, fierce death. Burning in the prince's eyes. While all he could do was stare back fearfully. That was the only emotion thrumming through his veins. Pure, unbridled  _ fear _ . He couldn't even hope to control it while looking up at the prince's intense scowl.

“N-no, your Highness!" he said desperately. He couldn't stop himself from backing away slightly, finding himself quickly against a wall.

There was no possible way to escape this. There wasn't even hope to try. Going out the window would be impossible, as the prince was now in the way of it. It would be... an extremely bad idea to get anywhere closer to the prince. Especially in an attempt to escape. Even if he did somehow manage to get out of here and get to his horse, he had nowhere to go. Not to mention he'd be chased down. He didn't even consider escape a viable option here.

He briefly thought of Aqua. She had tried to convince him to leave with her that night. They could have gotten home fast enough, packed, and gone to some far away place before it was even noticed that he was gone. He had refused. Even if he didn't want this, this was his duty to the prince now. And he couldn't risk Aqua or Ven to attempt to escape it.

He fell to his knees, bowing in front of the prince. He had to find a way to survive this. The prince was so  _ angry _ . But he couldn't die here. Not after just assuring Aqua that he would be safe. He couldn't let this happen. Aqua would blame herself for convincing him to come and talk. He couldn't leave Aqua or Ventus alone either. He needed to live.

"I'm sorry, your Highness. I... I did not mean to insult your mercy. Someone had called for me. I... I had to answer. I should have asked for your permission first. I'm sorry. Please," he started, unable to contain the desperation in his voice and the tears flowing from his eyes, "I can't die. It will never happen again. Forgive me."

It could have been any number of things that caused the prince's rant to stop.

Perhaps it was the continued use of the honorific, even when Terra was visibly terrified. Perhaps it was that Terra  _ was _ visibly terrified. Isa had never,  _ never _ wanted to be looked at like that. He'd sworn he wouldn't rule out of fear. 

. . . Now he had someone begging at his feet for forgiveness. For a chance to survive. Gods, he was just as bad as his father. The desperation, the tears, the complete subservience of Terra's position. . . all of it made it very hard to continue to throw words of fire and rage at him. 

Then there were those specific words --  _ I can't die. _ Not  _ I don't want to. _ I  _ can't. _ Isa was suddenly overcome by the same thought he had when he'd first seen Terra put on the block -- that he was meant for something more. There was a fire, there. A fire that didn't deserve to be put out. 

Of course, Isa had never intended to have Terra killed to begin with. He'd never have done such a thing -- he was only angry, and wanted the other man to understand the gravity of the situation. Which it certainly seemed, now, that he did. 

On top of all of that. . . Terra had come back. If he'd been trying to escape, why the hell would he have turned around and come back? If Isa hadn't woken, he'd have been none the wiser. He couldn't exactly stay angry with Terra for running away when he truly  _ hadn't. _

Perhaps that's one of the reasons why Isa suddenly found himself overcome by a wave of shame. But the prince was a prideful man, and he refused to let it show. If anything, it only made his anger simmer brighter. 

Still. . . he couldn't keep terrorizing the helpless man at his feet. So he let out a low, pissed growling noise, and turned on his heel while biting his tongue hard enough to make it bleed. Then, he moved to the bell system on his wall to call for someone. It was only a servant to fetch him something, however, and not a slew of guards that would carry Terra off to his demise. Not that Terra had any idea of that.

When Terra had gotten no verbal response, the panic only got worse. Was the prince done with words and would now actually punish him? Or was he simply going to ignore him, as if he didn't exist? He honestly didn't know which would be worse. Obviously, the worst possible outcome was his death, but beyond that, it was all a mystery. The prince could do  _ anything _ .

Then the prince stepped away. Entirely away. Without so much as touching him. He didn't move for a moment before slowly looking up. What was the prince doing? Wasn't he going to be punished? The prince had told him to stay in these chambers, and he hadn't.

The moment he saw the prince grab the cord, he felt his heart leap to his throat. He couldn't hear anything with how loudly his heart beat in his ears. The prince was going to call guards. Get him dragged into the dungeon and then likely executed in the morning. 

He couldn't go to the dungeon. He knew what many other soldiers did to criminals at night. There were reasons he never wanted to be there to witness the beatings. No mercy would be given to him, and he knew it. Not when he was accused of killing a commander and then attempting to flee. In fact, it would likely be even worse due to those two facts.

Maybe he shouldn't have, but he was terrified. He couldn't just let this happen. He couldn't just die.

"Your Highness,  _ please _ ," he begged, staying where he was but staring up at Isa, eyes fearful and dripping with tears.

“Shut up."

The words were harsh, and snapped over his shoulder. They came from Isa needing a moment to think. He didn't want to have to deal with this. Not even a bit.

The prince let out a frustrated hiss, running a hand through his hair and starting to pace in front of his door until he heard a knock. The door was quickly opened, his order given, and the door locked away again until the servant returned. No guards came to drag Terra away.

Damn it. . . ok. Terra had come back. That was a mercy. Now Isa didn't have to think of an excuse for his disappearance. . . but he also now knew that Terra was capable of escaping. Which meant he'd have to take measures to prevent it happening again, no matter what the other promised. 

He stood in silence, unable to look at the other man's tear-drenched face. Guilt was settling low in his belly for having caused that expression of fear but, damn it, the servant could have cost them both a lot. Isa was angry. He had a right to be angry, damn it. 

But he couldn't stand for the tears. He couldn't stand the guilt, and the pain on the other's face. So when the chain arrived in the hands of the servant, he held it aloft and clearly seen before approaching the bed with it in hand. 

"It's long enough for you to move around the room." His tone was hard, but not as venomous as it had been before. Without meeting the other's eyes, he knelt and began securing one end of the chain to the bed frame before securing the shackle to Terra's ankle and locking it. God, he hated doing this. . . the thought made him sick. He supposed he'd already been holding Terra captive, but this was so much more. . . concrete. Barbaric. But Isa didn't have any choice. "It's not long enough for you to leave it." 

He then sighed and stood, meeting teary eyes for the first time in several long, tense minutes. The sick feeling in his stomach wouldn't let him stay quiet and let that fearful look linger. "Calm down. Don't look at me like that. I'm not giving you up, and you won't be harmed. . . only because you've returned of your own volition. But I can't run the risk of you escaping again. Understood?"

The moment the prince said to shut up, Terra went dead silent. He didn't even move. Any chance he had to make it through the night relied on not angering the prince anymore than he already had. Which included following every order given. As perfectly as he could.

When the door opened, he couldn't hold back a flinch. There wasn't even relief from seeing no guards enter the room. Something was going to happen, and he didn't know what. Not knowing was what truly scared him the most. It could be anything. But it was almost certainly something unpleasant. He'd have to be punished in some way, wouldn't he?

It was nearly impossible not to attempt to move away when the prince walked towards him. He barely managed not too due to the thought that resisting would only make it  _ worse _ . Somehow. As it was, it took a moment to figure out what exactly the prince was holding through the dark. Seeing a chain did nothing to comfort him. But at least he wasn't being dragged out and to the dungeons. It was a low bar, but this was better. 

He already knew it, but this showed it far more directly. He was just as much a prisoner here as he would be in a cell underground. The only difference was that it was, admittedly, more comfortable up here. But it came with the drawback of being at another person's will. Being here was terrifying in a way that was just as strong a feeling, but for different reasons.

"Yes, your Highness..." he said, looking away from the prince. The expression of fear only shifted into one of sadness. At least Aqua was safe and hadn't gotten in trouble as well. He wouldn't have been able to bear that.

The sadness was almost worse than the fear. Perhaps part of Isa had been hoping that Terra would look relieved that he wouldn't be hurt, if only to quell Isa's guilt over causing that fear in the first place. But that lingering, broken, sorrowful expression . . . it was much harder to deal with, and equally hard to acknowledge. 

Isa might have spared Terra from physical death, but some part of him was dying. That wasn't hard to see. Part of the prince truly wondered if it  _ would _ have been more merciful to have Terra killed quickly. . . if he oversaw it, he'd be able to guarantee he wasn't abused, or suffer more than necessary. 

But he'd have never been able to do that. Not with the expression Terra had been giving him -- not with the  _ tears. _ The servant had something that he wanted to live for -- something that went beyond simple fear of death. Isa wouldn't be satisfied until he knew exactly what.

He didn't have the energy to deal with that, now. It had been an incredibly long day, and he was positive the same was far more true for his companion. So he only locked the shackle, then slipped the key for it onto his ring, which went tucked around his neck. 

"Go to bed. Try to sleep. You'll gain nothing from depriving yourself of it," was his final order before he turned, expression unreadable, and headed back towards his own bed. He wouldn't sleep that night, and he knew it very well. He'd lie there, beneath the canopy, and wrestle with his own thoughts until the dawn finally ended this long night.

Terra tried to do what he was told and sleep. He knew he needed to sleep. He needed the energy and strength to go through this. He knew he needed it. But it felt impossible. He was certainly exhausted, if only emotionally. But he didn't get much sleep that night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has elements of violence and attempted murder.

Each night was fitful. Each day was monotonous and quiet. The prince spent most of the day in court, and time spent in his rooms in the evening were almost completely silent. There was only the occasional order or question. Nothing that inspired genuine conversation.

Terra hated it. It was far too quiet, and there was little to do to occupy his mind. And he  _ needed _ to occupy his mind. Any time he wasn't chasing a distraction, his mind slipped into mourning. All the chaos had prevented him from actually feeling any grief, so, in the quiet moments, it hit hard. Almost unbearably hard. He didn't even have his family to share it with, for comfort and for support. It was horrible.

He tried to keep his emotions in check. Be calm. Be neutral. Like a soldier. Don't flinch at the blade, even if it's just words. Put on a strong face and keep going. Eventually, you either break or prove yourself. And he intended to prove himself.

As if he'd get the opportunity.

Another empty day past, and Terra was in his bed. It was hard to get comfortable with the ankle shackle, but he could manage. He knew he wasn't going to sleep anyways. Might as well accept it. Tonight would likely just be another night where he was silent until he thought the prince was asleep. Then he'd let all the emotions flow out of him. Maybe it would give him strength. It was hard to know for sure.

The prince himself didn't sleep much, either. Nor were his days pleasant. He was starting to realize the possibility that he was a prisoner of sorts, as well -- a prisoner of convention, of society, and of his own carefully woven plots against his father. 

It was exhausting. Then, when the arduous days were finally finished, he wasn't even able to relax. Because he was never alone in his room. Every day, he delayed his return there for as long as humanly possible, but there wasn't any true purpose. Regardless, he was keeping a human being trapped. Captive. Against his will. Like a clipped, caged bird, that Isa could see slowly fading away. 

The guilt for his treatment of Terra never stopped, but neither could he think of what to do instead. There was nothing he could think of that would convince himself of Terra's innocence. Nor was he certain what he'd do if he  _ did. _ As all things in his life, this was becoming a matter of biding his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to present itself. 

But his days were spent in cruelty. Cruelty in the court, and cruelty in his chambers. 

It was exhausting. 

Maybe that's why Isa had actually managed to fall asleep tonight, after days of monotonous, simmering torture. His sleep was fitful and plagued by harsh dreams, whispering to him that he was becoming the very monster he was attempting to defeat in his father. 

Unfortunately, bad things happened when Isa slept, and not just in his own mind. An unseen figure had managed to scale the high castle walls, completely quiet and undetected, and had added its shadow to the room.

Isa's ideals weren't loved by everyone in the kingdom. The people that abhorred them also tended to be people in power. That made a very dangerous combination. 

The assassin's feet made no sound at all on the floor as they approached the sleeping prince from behind, a coil of wire twisted between gloved hands and glinting in the moonlight. Isa continued sleeping, lost in his dreams, and the steady rhythm of his breath didn't falter.

Not until it was quite suddenly cut off. 

The wire was drawn across his throat in milliseconds, pulling his body sharply back against the assassin's from behind, and away from the knife he kept tucked under his pillow. In an immediate panic, Isa's eyes snapped open and he opened his mouth to cry out, only to find that no breath was coming. It didn't take long for him to figure out what was happening, and his mind dissolved immediately into panic. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

He couldn’t  _ breathe. _

_ Help, _ He tried to cry out,  _ murder, _ desperate for the guards on his floor to come running for him. But that was the very reason the assassin had chosen this form of demise for him -- to ensure silence. Though his hands scrambled wildly at the wire pressing into his throat, he was unable to find purchase, and the movements were soon made slippery and slick from his own blood. 

Windpipe cut off completely, he couldn’t even make a single sound, even as he thrashed relentlessly against the murderous hold. He had no leverage to struggle, and was unable to make contact with his attacker. Any fighting expertise was completely useless, and Isa’s blood ran cold as he realized just how helpless he was.    
  
He was dying. He was going to die.

Right here, right now, without ever having achieved what he’d wanted to. He’d never succeed his father. He’d never put his plans in action. 

He’d never save his kingdom, and make it the proud but free and just place he’d always wanted it to be. His father would win. He’d bleed the kingdom dry, and eventually it would be razed to the ground, with naught but one man’s riches to show for it. 

As much as that thought enraged the prince, giving him a brief surge of fight, he only succeeded in tearing the wire further into his own throat as he struggled, blood now running freely down his neck as hot, pained tears fought their way to his eyes. His vision was growing black quite rapidly and, before he knew it, his struggles started to slow. It  _ hurt. _ His chest burned as his lungs screamed for air that was never going to come. 

All his hard work . . . all of his plans. His dreams. They all meant nothing, now. He was. . . never going . . . to get the  _ chance _ . . . 

His father. His father would win. 

He’d never avenge his best friend. 

He was going to die.

And his servant . . . 

Why his thoughts turned to Terra in those final moments, he didn’t know. But they did. 

At least Terra stood a bit of a chance. He could pull the key from Isa’s body and make his getaway. Perhaps he could even use the assassin to help. In the wake of the death of the crown prince, no one would bother chasing after a single missing servant. This was to the benefit of  _ one _ person, at least. 

With those final thoughts, Isa’s hands started to slow and drop from the wire digging into his flesh, and he went limp in his murderer’s hold.

While the assassin might have moved silently through the room, there had been one mistake made. The assassin's foot had hit the chain, sprawled across the floor. Terra had never fallen asleep and had felt the small, almost unnoticeable, tug on his ankle. His eyes snapped open, and he tried to discreetly search the room.

He saw a shadow by the prince's bed that was... too thick to only be the prince standing from his bed. It didn't take long for him to figure out what was happening. Instincts took over. Silently yet quickly, he slipped out of his cot. He had no weapon. And the assassin could easily hurt the prince more if he wasn't careful. He needed to be fast and accurate and take advantage of his element of surprise.

Suddenly, he lunged the assassin from behind, pushing him forward so suddenly that the weapon would be moved away from the prince's neck. Then he grabbed both of the assassin's arms and pulled up. Getting the prince out of the death trap he had been in.

The assassin quickly recovered and was soon turning his attention to  _ Terra _ . But he wasn't caught by surprise. No, he knew exactly what he was facing. He needed to be careful not to let his head get too close while also taking the assassin out with no weapon. Wire wasn't good for hand to hand combat, and he wasn't going to give the assassin a chance to change weapons.

He immediately went in, getting a solid punch to the assassin's gut. The assassin tried to be clever and wrap the wire around Terra's arm. Unfortunately, it didn't sway Terra away from his goal, even if it did hurt. Instead, he used the bound arm to grab one of the assassin's arms before using his other elbow to snap the limb in half. The wire was let go as the assassin stumbled back.

Terra rushed him and punched the assassin in the side of the face. Hard. The assassin fell to the ground, and Terra immediately pinned him, holding the unbroken arm behind the assassin's back while using a foot to keep the injured arm away. He could hold this murderer still long enough to get help.

"Guards!" he yelled, voice seeming to echo loudly, even in the hallway through the closed down, "hurry! Guards!"

One moment, Isa had been certain of his demise. He'd accepted it -- he hadn't  _ wanted _ it, but he'd given all hope of salvation, and resigned himself to the tragic end that he appeared to be facing.    
  
The next moment -- air. 

As Terra's hands freed his neck, the prince immediately fell forward, half on the bed, and took in a large, greedy breath. The sound was rasping, and it  _ hurt, _ starved lungs now protesting being filled. He could still feel the phantom wire around his neck, breaking the skin and leaving behind a ring of pure fire. He was coughing, gasping, for several moments before the darkness started to clear from his vision, bringing with it spots of reality. 

How the hell was he breathing --? The confusion and haziness lingered as Isa tried desperately to breathe life into himself, until a voice suddenly cut through it. 

Terra. Had. . . had Terra really -- ?

Isa turned just in time to catch a glimpse of his would-be-murderer pinned to the ground by his unarmed servant, who didn't appear particularly phased. He looked. . . like a soldier. Like a guard, even as he called for others. 

The guards themselves were there in moments, pounding on the prince's locked door until one of them managed to produce an emergency key. Despite his weakness, Isa forced himself to his feet as they entered, removing the hand that had been clutching at his throat. He was a proud man -- he would not let his dignity be taken in front of his subjects.

Though his voice was nearly nonexistent, he informed the guards what had happened and demanded they take the assassin to the dungeon to be dealt with later. The king would likely get to him before Isa got the chance but, in this one instance, Isa didn't particularly mind. The guards obeyed readily, though they also insisted Isa report to the castle's healer for medical treatment.

Isa refused. He knew enough to know that his trachea wasn't crushed, so he'd likely be ok. The flesh wound he could tend to, himself. He'd never been particularly fond of the castle's healer in the first place, and he wanted as few people to know about this as possible. After a great deal of back-and-forth, he finally managed to get the guards to leave him by insisting that he needed to rest, and by kindly expressing his gratitude for their help.

Not that they'd have been able to do anything if Terra hadn't. . . if Terra hadn't . . . 

The confusion, pain, and shakiness that came with having been near-death returned as soon as the door was closed and locked again, and Isa all but fell against the wall as his knees gave out, gradually sliding down the surface to the floor with one of his legs drawn up. He was still taking in rasping breaths, and allowed himself to hold his throat again. Only then did he let his eyes turn to Terra, and for once they were free of imposing regality. 

They were confused, primarily. They were also grateful beyond measure. 

"You . . . you saved my life," He stated bluntly between breaths. "Why? Surely you were aware it would have been better for you to take the opportunity of my death and escape."

Terra had stayed on guard the entire time until both the assassin and all the guards had completely left the room. Just in case a struggle broke out. He'd have to do what he could to protect the prince. Even if he didn't have a weapon, he would try. Luckily, he hadn't needed to.

He didn't quite relax when they left, though. Instead, he turned his attention completely towards the prince. The prince had refused to get the healer. There was no way the prince wasn't hurt. The wire had been incredibly sharp. When it had been looped around his arm for just a moment, it had been able to cut through his sleeve and leave a shallow cut. It was too dark to fully see, but he could only imagine what the prince's throat looked like.

When the prince fell to the floor, he was immediately by the prince's side, incredibly worried. Had the prince lost too much blood? Was he hurt in other places? He had been about to call for someone to get the healer anyways when he heard the prince speak.

"I told you before, your Highness," he said, sincerely, "even if I'm no longer bound by it, I've sworn to protect the crown. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I had done nothing."

He quickly grabbed and lit a lantern, setting it on the floor nearby. He tried to see the extent of the damage to the prince's neck. There was... quite a bit of blood. That was concerning but not surprising. The prince could still breathe and talk, which was good. He needed to take care of this quickly before it got worse. 

"You need the healer, your Highness. The cut could get infected if you're not careful," he said, sounding genuinely worried.

"No healer," The prince retorted immediately, tone once again taking on an authoritative bite. "It's only skin deep. I've a kit here that I can use. No healer." 

He'd turned to keep his eyes on Terra as the other moved closer, now looking completely dumbfounded. His answer to the servant's suggestion had been purely instinctive, without much thought. His thoughts were busy with other things. 

Terra had saved him. Without hesitation. Without concern for what might have been better for  _ him. _ Even if there was something slightly painful about Terra saying he was loyal to the  _ crown _ \-- not Isa as a person -- it was impossible not to admire that conviction. Terra had every reason to be angry with him. Every reason to want him dead. 

Not only had he never attacked him, despite possessing incredible combat ability and being directly threatened, having ample motivation and ability, but he'd  _ saved _ him. He'd gone out of his way to take down Isa's attacker. Terra hadn't owed him that. The man had even said it, himself -- he was no longer bound by the honor code.

Except that he clearly was. Even if it was only symbolic, now.

Suddenly, remarkably, the argument that had been raging in the prince's mind was resolved. There was no other possibility. Terra truly was as loyal and innocent as he seemed. It was remarkable -- impossible -- but there was no other explanation. 

And the prince was left reeling. Reeling in astonishment, in guilt, and in more than a little relief over his continued existence. 

He stared at Terra, expression oddly open and vulnerable as he went into shock. " . . . You really didn't kill your father, did you?" He found himself rasping softly.

For the moment, it didn't rightly matter to Terra that this was the prince. He was about to argue and try to convince the prince to get the healer. It would be far better for the prince to have a professional look over it and care for it. That's what the castle healer was  _ for _ . Why was the prince so against it?

But he didn't get a chance to say anything either way. The prince had shocked him with a question he really hadn't expected, especially not right now. What did that matter at the moment? There were far more important things at the moment that needed to be addressed, like the cut on the prince's neck. That apparently he needed to care for instead of getting the healer.

He paused before looking for the mentioned kit. He couldn't help but meet the prince's eyes for a moment. It would be better to answer the question. Then they could move on, and he could make sure the prince didn't lose too much blood.

"No, I didn't," he said softly. It was the truth. It would always be the truth. Hopefully, the prince asking the question meant he was at least willing to believe him. It didn't matter much to him at this point. Aqua believed him, and that's what was important. But having the prince on his side would have its benefits.

"Where is it? The kit? We need to take care of that as quickly as possible before it gets worse," he said while standing. The priority was still making sure the prince wasn't hurt. The wound needed to be cleaned then wrapped to prevent further injury or infection.

Fate was funny.

If Isa had let Terra die, he'd be dead himself, and his kingdom doomed to an era of tyranny with no reprieve. That fact was far from being lost on the prince. 

Thoughts like these dominated his mind, as well as his sudden realization of Terra's innocence and loyalty. Everything within him that had thought otherwise simply came from a place of paranoia. There was no longer anything that justified it, and the prince was left reeling. 

Of course, the lack of oxygen and blood likely hadn't helped, nor had the sheer certainty he'd had in his coming demise, only to find salvation from the least likely place. In his opinion, the wound was inconsequential, and all of those racing thoughts mattered far more.

The question Terra had asked was only answered by the rattling of the chain attached to his ankle. He'd gotten a view of the shackle as the other had rose, and had immediately fumbled for the key around his neck. The prince was still in a state of shock, not thinking entirely clearly, but he knew he needed to do this. This one thing, at the very least. 

He unlocked the chain, and tossed it to the side, leaving the other man at least physically free. Only then did he blink, slowly, and brace a hand on the wall behind him to try to rise. The pain in his throat was setting in now that his adrenaline was dispersing, and it was growing hard to focus on anything else. 

"In. . . the drawer," He rasped, nodding towards the cupboard he kept the thing in. "In a tin."

Terra paused. He hadn't expected the prince to unlock the shackle. He'd honestly accepted that it was going to stay by this point. After all, it was put there for a reason. It made sense for it to stay. He could have fled, and the prince wanted to prevent that.

He didn't respond to it at first. He had to get the kit and care for the prince's wound first. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for. The prince had everything methodically organized. He quickly retrieved all he needed, including a damp rag from the washbin.

"Sit down, your Highness," he said while moving a chair close to where the prince was standing, "please."

There was no way the prince wasn't dizzy and in pain. He wouldn't try to force the prince, but he wanted to help. He couldn't stand seeing the prince injured. It felt like he had failed somehow. He should have known and acted faster. Then the prince wouldn't have been hurt in the first place.

Considering he hadn't expected Terra to act  _ at all, _ Isa didn't share the same regrets. He was far too grateful to have been saved in the first place, as well as completely baffled that he had been. 

He'd been lucky. The slightest difference in course over the last two days, and he would have died tonight, never to be crowned. That was a future Isa had never considered for himself, and one that had suddenly become very real. 

The shock was so prevalent that he sat as soon as he was asked, falling rather heavily into the chair -- though that was also due to the pain. It was growing by the minute, and he realized Terra was right. Before he dealt with anything else, he needed to care for the wound. 

"I can treat it, myself," He insisted while reaching for the bin. Immediately after, however, he winced and sharply inhaled while pressing a hand to his throat. He couldn't see the wound, and craning his neck to the point that he could do so in the mirror hurt quite terribly.

He had no other choice but to let go of a bit of pride. 

" . . . Perhaps, not," He muttered. "But I'm not going to a healer. Do you . . . know anything about treating wounds? I can talk you --" He cut himself off with a cough, " -- through anything that's unfamiliar."

"I know how to, your Highness. My father insisted I know how to dress wounds," Terra said gently, "please don't strain yourself further. I only wish to help you. May I?"

He laid out the items he needed nearby where he could reach them. He waited for the prince to grant him allowance before acting. Then, slowly, he pressed the rag to the prince's neck. He tried to be careful. It was likely painful. But it had to be done. The blood needed to be cleaned away before a bandage could be put on. Plus, it would prevent infection. Getting an infection on his neck... likely wouldn't end well for the prince.

He was gentle and methodical the entire time until he'd gotten all the blood that he could clean. It was hard to do, though, with the wound still  _ bleeding _ . That would be fixed soon enough. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too difficult.

Carefully, he wrapped the bandage around the prince's neck, trying not to put too much pressure on it. Just enough pressure to prevent bleeding. But not enough to cause unnecessary pain. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

"There, is that alright, your Highness?" he asked, looking nervous.

Terra likely had a right to look nervous. 

He did, after all, have the prince in an  _ extremely _ vulnerable position. One Isa wouldn't usually allow himself to be in. But this wasn't something he could take care of himself, and he'd much rather put his trust in Terra -- a man who'd just saved his life when it would have been to his advantage to let Isa die -- than the castle's somewhat suspicious healer. Isa never had been fond of the man.

Still, it took an enormous level of self control to tilt his head and bear his throat to allow Terra access to it. Especially after what had just happened. Fingers moving, probing such a vulnerable area. . . Isa exposed it completely, with no choice but to let the other do as was needed. . .

He found his breath picking up, muscles tensing to fight as he expected at any moment to feel either the cloth or Terra's hands to close around his neck. Even as he knew how foolish such a thought was. It was only by focusing on the pain that he was able to avoid losing himself in illogical fears. 

Luckily, Terra was done quickly, and the wound hadn't been deep enough to need stitches. As soon as the other backed off, the prince let out a slow breath and raised a hand to the bandage, which had been wrapped skillfully. Terra truly had known what he was doing. 

"It's fine, thank you," He replied with a nod, then reached again for the tin. "There's a small pouch, there. Inside, there's dried herbs. They're painkillers, and while I hate to take them I --" he winced, then raised a hand to his neck again. No doubt there was more damage beneath the skin level. It would take time to heal. " -- I quite need them."

Terra gave a small sigh of relief. He'd done it right. Even with the light of the lantern, it was hard to see very well. He'd been worried he'd missed a spot or done it too tightly. But with the prince confirming that it was adequate, he could calm down. At least in that regard.

He quickly retrieved the herbs the prince requested. It was odd. He recognized these. They were very useful, but they were hard to take without a drink. "Do you need me to get you a drink, your Highness? I can call for the servant to get one for you," he offered gently.

There was a whirlwind of activity in his mind, but he forced it all aside. He'd first make sure that the prince was completely okay before allowing himself to think upon everything that had happened. Like how the prince had nearly been killed. Or how he might have been too if he had been noticed. Or how he might have been killed simply because the prince was no longer there. Or how the prince had unchained him just for doing his duty. Or the fact that the prince seemed to now believe his innocence. Or -

Alright, he needed to stop. Just focus on making sure the prince was okay Or, as okay as he could be.

Okay might have been a relative term, but the prince was recovering quite rapidly. He wasn't the sort of person that dwelled in weakness and fear so, while his hands were still shaking a bit with lingering nerves, he was coming out of his shock remarkably well for someone in his position and moving into a logical mindset. He'd be alright -- this was nothing. He refused to let it affect him. He was strong.

He refused to be anything else.

So he shifted in his chair, adopting a more regal posture befitting his stature. Nevertheless, there was still something oddly relaxed about his position and, while proud, it wasn't imposing.

"No, no . . . " he started, then nodded towards a table in the corner. "There's already a pitcher. I would be grateful, however, if you'd bring me a glass." One of his hands lingered on his throat as he spoke, as clearly as he could through his abused vocal chords.

There was something . . . odd about this, and he couldn't quite place his finger on it. He didn't think he'd ever been spoken to with such pure care before. Of course, everyone did everything he asked of them, and he was occasionally politely encouraged to do things for his health -- like seeing the healer -- but this was quite new. Terra was proactively addressing his very comfort, and seemed to actually care about his pain.

He didn't know what that meant, or how to feel about it.

In all honesty, Terra didn't know what this meant either. Yes, he felt compelled to protect the prince. That was his duty as a soldier. But anything beyond that confused him. The prince had refused to see the healer, so he supposed that that's why he was worried enough to care for the wound. His duty was to wait on the prince now, right? This was just part of it.

He quickly retrieved the drink, almost spilling it but recovering well. No need to make a mess on top of whatever there likely already was. Wait, would there be blood on the sheets or the prince's shirt? Those would have to be changed if that was the case.

"Here you are, your Highness," he said while handing the water and medicine to the prince. He glanced over the prince's collar in the dim light of the lantern, trying to see if there was any blood. It was obvious, really. Dark stains on the white fabric.

"You should probably change your nightshirt, your Highness," he said while standing and trying to see any blood on the sheets. There was nothing especially obvious.

The drink was accepted gratefully along with a murmured word of thanks. Isa had oft been questioned for such behavior -- showing politeness to a servant who, by all accounts, deserved his indifference at best. Or, if anything, brief eye contact or a nod before dismissal. Let alone that Terra was a personal servant.

If the king could see them, he would have been horrified.

He would have made an effort of actively showing Isa how to put his pet into his place.

But the king wasn't there, and so Isa showed courtesy. It was the least he could do for someone who'd just saved his life.

He downed the herbs with a sip of water, wincing at the feeling. The texture was good and soothing to his throat, but the pain of swallowing was almost an ineffective trade-off. Hopefully, the medicine would help soon. He should probably see about making a poultice for the outside of his throat . . .

"Hm?" He murmured, blinking himself from his thoughts when Terra spoke. At the suggestion, he glanced down, and grimaced at the state of his clothing. It wasn't particularly bad, but there were visible spots of blood. Isa hadn't realized he'd bled that much . . .

"Yes, you're right, I suppose. . . " He murmured, then rose to his feet with a slight wince. "I should get dressed." He then started to begin the process of putting on actual clothing, not seeming to care that it was still quite dark outside. 

It had honestly been startled to be thanked. Terra had assumed this was simply what he was meant to do now. There was no need for thanks when he only did what was expected of him. But he didn't say that aloud. It'd be easier if he just accepted it if the prince wanted to show gratitude. It wasn't like he could rightly tell the prince not to show gratitude. Plus, that just didn't make sense at all to do.

He didn't get a chance to say anything anyways. The prince was already moving to the next thing. Part of him wondered if he should offer to help. It was technically part of his new duties, even if the prince had yet to ask and seemed somewhat against that level of assistance. Besides, this might be a time that the prince may actually need the help. Neck injuries didn't exactly make it easy to remove shirts.

But then he noticed the clothing the prince had grabbed. That wasn't another nightshirt to replace the dirtied one with. It was day clothes. Things that the prince would wear when walking about the palace, not sleep in.

"Your Highness?" he called while looking away, just in case, "aren't you going back to bed? It's the middle of the night."

There was no way.

No way in hell.

The thought of crawling back into his bed. . . beneath those sheets. . . where he'd been so suddenly and silently grabbed. . .Where his future had almost been completely taken from him in a matter of moments. . .

It had the prince shuddering, and he stilled, hands tightening on the clothing in his grip. "Not tonight," He answered simply, in his rasping tone. "I don't see how I can, after . . . what's happened. Surely you can't blame me for that."

He then set his clothes to the side and made an attempt to pull his nightshirt over his head, barely succeeding and letting out a hiss as he tossed it to the side. He was bare chested, now, and only in his underwear. But something wouldn't let him venture behind the darkness of his changing screen.

"I don't require anything else of you - you've done more than enough for the night. You may retire as you wish."

It was impossible not to be some form of worried. Yes, it would have been terrifying to nearly die within your own bed. But that didn't change the human need for sleep. Terra didn't want to argue. He didn't want to insist, only to be snapped at or ordered away. But he couldn't sleep now either. Not until he felt the prince was safe, if even it was his own mind.

"With all due respect, your Highness," he said, looking towards the windows instead of at the other, "you need the rest. You can't be exhausted while in court. I could... place my cot between your bed and the windows, if you'd like. None will ever come that close to you again. I swear it."

He meant every word. He even would have given a sincere look had he not been avoiding looking at Isa. Even out of his peripheral vision, he could tell the prince was having a hard time with the pain. Should he offer help? The prince had never asked for help dressing before. Would it hurt the prince's pride? Though, he didn't even know how to properly help dress another person. He'd helped Ventus dress, but only because Ventus had been ill and unable to do it himself.

"At the very least, allow me to stay up with you, your Highness," he nearly pleaded, "if another comes, I will be able to dispatch them immediately."

If another comes.

While the thought was the opposite of favorable, it was also extremely likely. The prince was, of course, familiar with the nature of assassins -- but he'd never faced one himself before today. He'd been living in far too comfortable a world. He'd dropped his guard. He'd almost paid the price.

He wouldn't do that again.

Isa wasn't scared -- no, he was angry. Angry that someone had dared to try to strike him down. Angry at himself for being so helpless.

He was also oddly, smugly, satisfied. That the assassin had failed, of course, but also the fact that someone had tried to kill him meant he was doing something right. Someone out there didn't want Isa to live to take power . . .

And with Terra's help, he was going to do an exquisite job of pissing them off.

So he couldn't sleep -- half out of pure determination. The other half was, of course, a lingering amount of fear and apprehension that Isa would never admit to. There was another feeling there, as well -- an odd sort of respect for his servant, and a rapidly growing trust. The concern and devotion the other showed was incredible, especially considering the right he had to hate the prince.

"I highly doubt that was the last we'll see," He muttered as he dressed, paying no mind at all to the pain the movement caused. "Though it's likely the last for the night. Another won't be dispatched until whoever sent the first receives word that I'm still alive. I'm likely safe for the night -- but there's no possibility of my mind slowing down enough to be able to sleep. I've much to think about."

Many of which involved the man in front of him.

While it was somewhat comforting that there was low risk of another assassin coming tonight, it was not comforting that more could come. If one assassin was sent, that meant someone wanted the prince dead. Then that assassin failed. Whoever wanted the prince dead would likely try again.

Maybe Terra would move his cot between the bed and the window... Just to be safe.

But the prince would need to be sleeping in the bed for that to be an effective method of protection. Though, he couldn't blame the prince for not wanting to sleep and not being able to relax. Near death experiences tended to make your heart beat fast and your mind wild with activity. Endless what ifs along with gratefulness that it had only been a  _ near  _ death experience.

"I doubt I'll be able to sleep either, your Highness," he said with a weary chuckle, rubbing his neck, "would it trouble you if I stayed up with you?"

Ordinarily, it would have. Acknowledging Terra's presence typically did nothing but irritate the prince.

That wasn't the case any longer. It was really quite remarkable how much things had changed within the past few minutes, and how secure Isa had suddenly become in Terra's loyalty and innocence. There was one good outcome of the attack, at least.

Perhaps that's why he answered with ". . . Not at all," as he moved to pick up the lantern and set it down on the table in front of one of the chaises before taking a seat. "Do as you wish, I don't rightly care. In fact --"

He suddenly cut himself off with a coughing fit, every single one feeling as if it were tearing his abused throat to shreds. Blurrily, he groped for his cup of water and tried to take small sips in order to quell the problem.

". . . Gods, that's annoying."

In reality, Terra had no idea what he would do with himself. He was worried about another assassination attempt, which was the main reason he couldn't sleep. He had sworn to protect the crown from any such attack, and he was in the rooms of the crown prince. It was only natural for him to almost act like a guard. He was certainly capable.

But the prince coughing had made him a different kind of worried. How much damage had the prince sustained? Would it all heal or was it permanent? If he had acted faster, would some of that damage been prevented?

He crossed the room to get closer to the prince. It felt wrong to be standing, towering over the prince. Seating on the chaise with the prince wasn't even an option. So he knelt beside the chaise, looking up at the prince worriedly.

"You should try not to strain your voice, your Highness," he said, clearly concerned, "it may take a few days to heal enough to where it doesn't hurt.” 

"It's alright. Inconsequential -- only a bit swollen," the prince assured with a shake of his head, holding up a hand to halt Terra's words. "It could have been a good deal worse, but it isn't. That's all that matters."

He paused for a moment in thought, then made an executive decision. If he hadn't already, the sheer amount of worry that showed on Terra's face sealed the rest of his doubts and made his decision firm.

". . . You may relax," He ordered, then pointed to the chair that he'd been settled on before. "Sit down. There's something I want to talk with you about, if we're both going to be awake regardless. I might as well take advantage of opportunity."

It was going to be a rather interesting discussion, to be sure -- but the prince had made his decision, and he'd keep to it.

Still clearly concerned, Terra went to sit on the other chaise. He couldn't relax after the events of the night. None could really blame him for that. Especially with the prince's words of it could have been worse. It really could have been. Had he acted a moment too late...

He decided not to dwell on it. The prince wanted to talk to him about something. No need to focus on a what if when it hadn't happened. Like the prince said, all that mattered was that everything was alright now. For the most part at least.

"Of course, your Highness. What is it?" he asked, unable to stop himself from being apprehensive. There was nothing that put him more on edge than someone saying "we need to talk.” 


	7. Chapter 7

This was the last opportunity to back out. The prince was about to place more confidence in another human being than he had perhaps ever in his life. He kept every thought, every plan, heavily guarded and close to his chest. He certainly didn't confide them in servants.

But here he was, making a calculated decision. A decision that, provided he'd managed to read the man in front of him correctly, would benefit both of them.

"I don't want a personal servant," He finally spoke up briskly, his voice somewhat recovered. "I never have. I never will. I don't require the . . . services they're supposed to provide. Which has left me quite uncertain what to do with you."

He took a deep breath before continuing. crossing his legs in front of him. "The events of the evening have proven to me that I can trust you. At the very least, you appear to be loyal to the kingdom, as well as your former position as a soldier. You've done me a great service -- one that I am incredibly thankful for.

"Now that I've been . . . attacked, it's likely there's someone out there who's rather set on the idea that I don't live to take the throne. That said, it's likely that I'll be a very hard man to keep alive. I've never quite seen anyone rise to defend me as quickly and effectively as you've done tonight -- so, for that reason, I'd like for you to act as my personal guard. But this has to stay quiet. As far as anyone else is concerned, you're my bedwarmer. I intend to allow you to accompany me outside of the room to act as my guardian -- but it will have to appear as if you're my personal plaything. Are you following me?"

It was hard for Terra not to be worried with how the prince started. Didn't need a personal servant? What was going to happen to him? Though, it made the prince saying that that wouldn't happen did make more sense. But then why would the prince go out of his way to keep him from dying to make him one?

He listened apprehensively as the prince continued. He'd... proven to be trustworthy? While that was comforting to some degree, it was entirely undeserved. He had simply been doing his duty as a soldier. The prince was right about where his loyalties were. That didn't mean he was suddenly deserving of such trust.

But then the prince kept talking and surprised him more. Personal guard? There were so many more qualified for such a position. More experienced. Held in higher honor. He shouldn't be the guard for the prince when he'd been so dishonorably taken from his position, even if from a false accusation.

There was that last part... appearing to be a personal playtoy. What all did that include? How far did that go? Well... he supposed there was only one way to find out.

"I... am, your Highness. Though I'm... unsure if I understand what you mean. Why allow me to be your guard when there are others? There are many that would be honored and much more capable than I," he said, clearly confused.

"Likely so, yes," Isa replied after a brief pause to consider the other man's words. "There are many skilled and high-ranking soldiers who I'm certain would jump at the opportunity to protect me. However, they're just that -- high ranking soldiers. In order to request their services, I'm afraid I'd have to admit just how dire my circumstances are. Such a thing is likely to put the court into an uproar -- potentially the entire kingdom. Royalty traveling with a heavily armed guard attracts a good deal of attention.

"But," he raised a finger to accentuate his point. "Royalty traveling in the company of naught but his personal pet? It's much more easily looked over, and not an uncommon sight. Particularly so when the servant themselves is rather attractive. Choosing you as my guard enables me to keep this whole situation a good deal quieter.

"In addition to keeping court and kingdom calm through this deception, we'd also have the advantage of surprise over the assassin themselves. In all seriousness, that's likely what allowed you to save me tonight." There wasn't any point denying the situation, beating around the bush or chalking the entire thing up to a complete, lucky coincidence.

"Assassins are prepared for guards, and they know all too well their typical motives and how to take them down. They prepared for that tonight, see -- that's why they chose to strangle me. I had two guards standing in the hallway, not too far at all from my door, and I would have been murdered directly under their noses if it hadn't been for your intervention." The manner in which he spoke of his own near death was entirely matter-of-fact and unconcerned.

"You're unexpected, incredibly skilled, and easy to keep inconspicuously at my side. Additionally, it gives you a job to do, outside of what's typically expected from someone in your position. I can't imagine you have much genuine protest to the idea."

Terra listened carefully. Though, his brain did have a brief pause at the prince indirectly calling him attractive. That had to have just been a slip of the tongue, right? Or just an example? Not talking about him specifically? Regardless, that wasn't important that the moment. He shouldn't be overthinking something like that, even if it did bring a small heat to his face.

Everything that the prince was saying certainly made sense... It was impossible for Terra to find any sort of further objection. Who was he to deny what the prince wanted to do? Especially when the prince clearly had thought this through and had sound reasoning. It was true that none would expect one that's merely meant to serve as a bedwarmer to be an efficient and trained soldier. Certainly not one that could take out a trained assassin near instantly.

It was almost unsettling how calm and blunt the prince was. The prince had nearly lost his life this very night, yet was talking about it as if it had happened months ago. How could the prince possibly be this rational? It didn't make any sense. Terra was certain he wouldn't have been near as aloof as the prince appeared to be.

"I don't, your Highness. I'm merely... shocked. This isn't anywhere near to what I expected. I was only doing my service to you as a soldier," he said while looking towards the floor, "Not to mention, I'm confused. How am I to be your personal guard while appearing not to be and, well, appearing to be very much something else?"

It wasn't that the prince didn't feel anything regarding his brush with death -- it was simply that he refused to indulge those feelings at all. They were swept to the side as inconsequential as Isa fought to keep his rational mind. He'd gain nothing over panicking now -- not when he was safe now, and everything was alright. There was simply no point. Now was the time to plan -- not panic.

And planning, he was. And he'd just found himself a rather critical lynchpin.

"That loyalty, despite having been stripped of your position and title, is precisely why I want you by my side," he replied in a direct, sincere tone. "There are plenty of soldiers whose devotion to the crown is limited solely to their position. If they were to find themselves in your position, they'd lose every bit, and might even come to resent me. You've proven loyalty in the face of dishonor, and that is a valuable quality. One I want, and trust, to defend me.

"As for how to behave, well, while you'll be for all true purposes like my bodyguard, it must appear to others that you're no more than my servant -- as you've said. I take it you've heard of the theatre, yes? I'm afraid we'll have to do a bit of . . . acting."

Yet again, the prince was making very good points that Terra couldn't argue with. He knew of many soldiers that only acted as soldiers to gain honorable high ranks and receive glory while holding little loyalty to anyone but themselves. He had hated that mindset. It was unbefitting of a guard. Eraqus had thought so too. That's why none of the men under Eraqus's command were ones that thought that way. Eraqus had made sure of that.

Though, it was honestly flattering and somewhat embarrassing that he was being praised. Being loyal to the crown was simply expected of him as a soldier, and habits were not easily broken. Especially not after a lifetime of being taught by Eraqus about the honor and loyalty a guard ought to have. He had wanted to be the perfect soldier for Eraqus. To make him proud.

Now, it seemed that the only path forward was doing this. The prince had no other need for him, and he would still be doing what he had always done to a degree. Though, it was in a bit of a different way than ever before. He'd be a personal guard to the prince. Not just one of many guards posted at gates and turrets. This was a rare honor that was coming in a truly rare way. Even if it wasn't in ideal circumstances, he should be happy. He'd always wanted to be of service to the crown. This was simply the method he had now.

"I'm honored to have your trust. I swear not to break it, your Highness," he said while putting a hand over his heart. He then looked a bit confused at the prince's final statement. "Acting..? How? What exactly would be... happening?"

Yes, that had been about the response that the prince was expecting. It was incredibly odd how suddenly he'd managed to recognize how much of an idiot he'd been.

Truly, Isa had been vastly overthinking every aspect of Terra's character, wondering suspiciously if the servant was some sort of strategic mastermind. That . . . clearly wasn't the case. For all intents and purposes, just as innocent and loyal as he appeared. While it seemed incredibly unlikely, if only because of Isa's paranoia, Isa couldn't think of any other explanation for anything that had happened.

Now, the fellow didn't even seem to realize what Isa was referring to . . . bless his heart, he might not have survived as a genuine personal servant. "While we're in public, we'll need to keep up appearances. Your wardrobe is one of the ways in which we'll do this, which you've likely already put together. You'll have to look the part of my pet.

"Additionally . . . there will be times when I'll have to . . . touch you. Nothing too extreme, but . . . I'll ask you to stay close to me, and occasionally caress a part of your skin. To give the illusion that we're . . . intimate. You'll have to follow my lead in such cases -- I give you my word that I won't do anything too invasive. Though I will, on occasion, also have to . . . speak about you to court members. I'll have to ask you to forgive anything crass you overhear in such instances."

Oh.

Well, Terra supposed that made sense. As weird as it felt to think about it, it would be strange for them not to act that way. Especially the prince. It was disgusting that it was something so expected, but they couldn't really change that. Though, he was pretty glad that this wasn't actually how things were for him.

But how was he supposed to act like this? He, simply put, had never even done anything like that. So he had no idea how one acted towards the other afterwards.

The prince said to follow the lead. He could probably handle that. It was also oddly comforting that the prince said that the touches wouldn't be invasive. That meant any touches might be focused on his hair, face, arms, and maybe chest. He... he could deal with that. He just needed to think of it as more familial? No, actually that made it worse. He'd have to think of it as a necessity. That made it easier.

But that last thing got to him. Speak about him? Somehow he knew he didn't want to overhear any of those potential conversations.

"Speak about me? Why would anyone even care to know? Isn't the point of having a personal servant that it's... personal, and, thus, private?" he asked, more than a little dumbfounded and disgusted. He immediately felt like he had been disrespectful. "I-I mean... That's just unfamiliar to me, your Highness," he said a bit nervously.

Terra's brief lapse in formality only earned him a slightly raised eyebrow. Yes, he was clearly out of his depth -- not that the prince wasn't, but he was able to be so in a much more composed and logical manner. It wasn't as if he was going to enjoy any of the things he'd have to do and say . . .

. . . Although there was an extremely distant part of him that was tempted. One that Isa refused to acknowledge in the slightest.

"You're correct, there. . . " He replied with a small nod. "And you have my word that I will not allow anyone else to touch or abuse you in any way. But there is, on occasion, a tendency among court members to . . . how to put this . . . boast the best qualities of their . . . pets. For lack of a better term. They . . .well, they brag, and inquire as to the . . . pleasantness of other's servants. It's not common, but it is an occasional talking point -- and is likely to be brung up more with you actually being out with me.

"I'm aware that this isn't ideal -- not for either one of us. But I'm afraid it's our best option at the moment, and there's a definite way to make it work for our benefit."

Well that was a bit comforting at least. The prince wouldn't let anyone else get too close. That was something Terra could be grateful for. He knew he wasn't exactly in the safest position in the world. There was something Eraqus had occasionally said after overheard or noticing something of that nature being done in public. Eraqus said the most dangerous place to be was at another person's mercy, because it won't be long until you're at the mercy of everyone.

At least in his case, the prince planned on limiting that only to himself. No one else would get any sort of claim to him. As odd as it felt to think, it was a relief that this was the case. Not to mention the prince didn't seem interested in any genuine action either. He was in the safest position he could be in this situation. He should be grateful for that.

But that didn't make it any less strange to learn about what the court often discussed. Didn't those people have their own estates to manage as well as whatever town or city the king had given them dominion over? Surely, there were better uses of one's time than going around boasting about a pleasure servant or asking about another's.

It was honestly a bit disgusting. But he'd have to endure it. By not listening if he had to. It shouldn't be hard to ignore if he focused on his real task, which was making sure no one harmed the prince. That no one got close enough to try. So long as he just thought about that, then he could put up with and ignore almost anything.

"Yes, this does seem like the best plan, especially if you didn't want an actual personal servant," he said, slipping into less formal talk due to just sheer exhaustion, "I don't see why other's would want to talk, but I suppose I've never been in either situation. I can just act as if I don't hear it."

He glanced at the floor. Hearts, what exactly was he getting into? Should he find a way to tell Aqua? He didn't want to worry her further, but maybe it'd put her at ease. Just a little.

He looked up at the prince. "Yes, I think I can do this, your Highness. I simply have to follow your lead and ignore anything I don't wish to hear. All the while simply making sure no one is coming at you with a knife, as it were," he said.

Honestly, Isa didn't completely understand it, either. He found the behavior of the court members incredibly disgusting, and fully intended to tell them so as soon as he was in a position where it wouldn't negatively affect him. That he'd have to engage in such behavior himself sickened him to no end, but it was unfortunately a necessary evil. At least, for the moment.

Oddly enough, he found Terra's more casual tone refreshing. He'd almost grown tired of the bowing and constant carefully chosen words, with Terra acting as if any mistake would send him back under the axe. Surely, this more relaxed conversation meant the other was growing less afraid of him. The thought was comforting. Isa didn't want fear.

"Yes, quite," He nodded, unable to contain a small snort at the other's commentary. It hurt his throat, of course, but considering that everything hurt his throat Isa didn't really pay it much mind. "You aren't in it alone, however. This is going to be just as much of an experience for me as it is for you, but I believe we can manage. Hopefully, the next attempt on my life isn't particularly soon. . . I'd quite like a moment to recover, first. But that may be too much to hope for."

He took a moment to glance the other over, able to almost taste Terra's distress. Even if it wasn't outright fear any longer, Terra was still in a rather precarious and vulnerable position. "This goes both ways, as well," He said in a slightly softer tone. "I'll protect you as much as I'm able, just as I ask you to protect me. I would like a guard -- not a slave."

It had been days since Terra had heard it, but the prince was doing it again. Speaking in that ever so slightly more gentle tone. One that invited trust and calm. He genuinely wanted to believe what he was being told when the normally stern prince spoke in such an almost reassuring way. Especially when what the prince said was taken into consideration.

The prince was going to protect him too, though in a bit of a different way. Though, he supposed the prince had already been protecting him. First by stopping the initial execution, then by deciding not to harshly punish him from sneaking out that one night. Now, the prince was going to protect him from whatever moves other nobles tried. He could only assume that such things happened where nobles tried to... share. Though, he doubted anyone would dare try since he was technically the property of the crown prince.

"I believe I have more practice in being a guard, you Highness," he said, almost as a joke, with a small smile, "I swear to protect you. It's the least I can do for you since you saved my life. Not to mention that I would be honored. Though, I'll agree with you, I hope this doesn't happen again soon. But it's better to be prepared."

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. It was just like being a soldier again, though, in much less protective clothing. Hopefully that wouldn't be too much of a problem since his role relied on the element of surprise. No one would expect the barely clad... pet to be a trained soldier.

That smile.

The circumstances they were in were serious -- almost dire, in fact. Yet the servant had smiled, while looking the prince directly in the eyes. It wasn't something he'd not honestly expected. . . why would he have?

That smile caught him completely off guard, and he was unable to keep from laughing incredibly quietly in response. The sound was quiet, of course, because of both his injury and his dignity. "I'm amazed you think it an honor -- I'm well aware your circumstances aren't ideal. You've never managed not to surprise me, you know."

He sighed, then let his eyes fall shut for a moment. Despite his racing mind, his body was quite weary . . . he had a long, restless night and day ahead of him. "Regardless of apparent status, however, you have my thanks. In return, if you'd like my assistance, I'd be willing to look into having your name cleared."

Even if it had been quiet, Terra had heard that laugh. It was oddly comforting to hear. Despite the typically stoic and silent demeanor of the prince, it seemed there was a bit of humor in there. Maybe he could stand to talk a little more informally if the prince didn't mind, which he didn't seem to. Especially after how he'd slipped up on formalities with no repercussions. Though, he knew better than to take that too far. The last thing he needed was to actually insult the prince.

But the last sentence blindsided him. Clear his name? He hadn't even considered the possibility. Even if he was innocent, even if he wanted to be able to go home, that idea seemed impossible. No matter what the prince did, it felt like a fever dream to be completely pardoned. It wasn't even a thought in his mind.

"You don't have to do that, your Highness," he said, almost nervously, "I find it unlikely that such a thing can be done. Even if you did, I doubt everyone would believe it. I only want to ensure that my family believes my innocence. I'm fairly certain they do. And that's enough for me."

Then he really noticed the condition the prince was in. Even if the prince didn't want a servant, that was still what he was now. And part of protecting the prince was ensuring that the prince was in good health.

"Now, your Highness ought to rest the best you can before tomorrow. It wouldn't do well for us to start this play with us both exhausted," he said, not forcefully but a bit pleadingly.

Terra had a point -- of course he did.

Terra had more than a point. He wasn't saying anything that Isa didn't already know, but . . . the thought of climbing into bed was more appealing than it had been before, even as his injured body begged for rest.

"Regardless, whatever assistance I can offer in those endeavors I will willingly provide," He replied insistently. "If you wish to speak to them, you only have to ask -- though it might take a bit of effort on my part to arrange. I won't press you to tell me anything in addition, as I'm convinced enough myself of your innocence already."

He then sighed, rubbing his eyes for a moment. ". . . You won't rest unless I go to bed, will you?" He murmured, knowing it was very likely the case. That would put both of them in danger the next day . . . and Terra a very ineffective bodyguard. "Alright. I will try my best to do so for a few short hours. And . . . "

He paused, took a breath, and then said simply "Isa."

Terra felt a bit bad. He hadn't told the prince that he already had talked to his family. Should he just allow that to continue and get another opportunity? He might even be able to see Ventus too. No, that wasn't right. He shouldn't be deceitful. Especially not when the prince was giving him far more freedoms than anyone in this position would ever hope for. It was better for the truth to come out now, lest it be discovered later and caused a problem.

"I've... already spoken to one of them," he said, nervously fixing his sleeve, "the night I went out, it was to talk to my sister. She was confused... and scared by what had happened in the throne room. She had only wanted answers and to know that I was okay. I haven't spoken to her seen. Though I wouldn't expect it immediately, I would like to get to talk to her again. She's a bit of a worrier."

He sighed. "I am sorry for not telling you before now. I was.. unsure of what to expect, your Highness," he said while glancing up.

Then his brain went to a complete pause. Yes, he was grateful that the prince was going to bed. The prince needed rest. He needed rest. But he couldn't call himself a good guard if he went to sleep before the one he was guarding. It was only natural that he'd wait for the prince to settle down first.

But there was that last thing. Isa. Though he had never used it, he knew that to be the prince's given name. Why was the prince saying his own name to him as if it were an order? What was he supposed to do? Surely, the prince didn't mean...

"What was that, your Highness?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

Perhaps Isa should have known Terra would want an explanation. It wasn't exactly a typical thing to ask a servant to call him by something other than an honorific.

He sighed, then stood and refilled his water glass, taking a few sips before speaking. "I'll see what I can do to get you in touch with your sister," He answered simply, not commenting for the moment on anything else Terra had said.

He couldn't exactly blame the other for being unsure what to expect. Isa hadn't exactly done anything that would have been expected by a royal in his position. And he was currently about to do something somehow even less so.

"My name. It's Isa. I abhor the use of titles, especially outside of the court. Provided we're in private, I would like for you to use my name."

Was the prince truly serious? That was impossible. Why would the prince ask for that? Terra couldn't do that. It wasn't right, certainly not given the current situation between them. How could he possibly do that? If anyone overheard him calling the prince by name, he could get in serious trouble, even if the prince himself didn't care. That was simply an impossible request. How did he respond?

But the prince wanted him to use his given name. How could the prince hate titles? That was literally one of the fundamental things that came with being nobility, much less royalty. It was unheard of for one not to want to be addressed by their title.

"You... I... I don't know if I can do that, your Highness. Wouldn't that be disrespectful?" he said, edging on nervous, "it's not fitting for me to call you by your given name. You're the crown prince. You should be called as such."

Yes, this was an expected reaction. Isa couldn't help sighing as he undid the collar of the undershirt he'd got dressed in. He wasn't going to completely undress again, and rather intended to sleep in the bare minimum.

"It isn't disrespectful if I've given you permission" He assured in a stern tone, hoping to quell the nerves in Terra's voice. "And I place very little importance in titles and position. Please -- I insist."

It wasn't an outright order, but it was a clear and distinct request. The prince could only hope that Terra would honor it -- though he, of course, wouldn't force the issue. But he spent enough time being deferred to on a day to day basis, showered with formal speech and honorifics. He didn't want that to continue into his own bedroom.

"I've a name for a reason. It shouldn't be kept from conversation like some sort of swear."

Terra looked nervously at his hands. Could he really do that? The prince was right. It wasn't really disrespectful if it had been specifically requested. In fact, it would be more disrespectful to ignore the request than it would be to call the prince by his given name. So long as he only said it when they were alone, there shouldn't be a problem. That's what the prince had asked for, right? To say it when it was just the two of them? Yeah, he should be able to handle that.

"You're right, your Hi-.... Isa," he said, pausing after he almost said the honorific. That was really going to take some getting used to... "I'll do my best, though, I may have trouble breaking the habit at first."

He couldn't stop a small yawn. Great. No. He needed to stay awake. The prince, no Isa, was awake, and he was going to stay awake with Isa. What sort of guard went to bed before the one they were protecting? Not a good one, that's for sure.

"If you're willing, you- Isa, we ought to sleep. I've moved my cot between your bed and the window. No one will get close to you, I swear," he said sincerely while looking at Isa a bit more gently.

It was going to take the prince himself some getting used to -- hearing his name from another's lips, that is. The only time he ever had the chance to do so was at events when he was introduced with his full title and name.

He was never called only his given name. He found he quite liked it.

Though it was a bit humorous to hear the servant consistently correct himself.

It was humor that faded when he was reminded of the direness of his situation, glancing for a moment at the cot's new position. What he wouldn't give to be able to avoid the struggle of going to sleep entirely . . . he was certain it wasn't going to be easy.

But Terra was yawning, and clearly eager for sleep, himself. He had to be just as tired as the prince -- if not more so, after the stress of the night as well as the past few days. So Isa would try to sleep, if only to pacify his servant into doing so himself.

"Very well," He agreed with a nod, then proceeded to climb into his bed. "You have my thanks. Let's try to rest as best we can, then." It was some comfort, at least, that he had Terra watching over him. He was certain the other man knew how to do so effectively.

That was the thought he tried to pacify himself with as he laid down to rest.

It was a genuine relief that the prince, Isa, had agreed to go to bed. Terra had been worried they'd end up awake all night. Despite all his training, he just wasn't able to handle getting no sleep. He could function on little sleep with no issue, but not sleeping at all guaranteed him to be an ineffective soldier. Which he couldn't allow. Not when he'd been given the job and honor to guard the prince himself. There was no way he could risk not being at his best when Isa was relying on him and trusting him.

He followed Isa then laid in his own cot. Placed between the window and the prince. He was the primary line of defense, meant to take any would be assassins by surprise. It was a good thing he'd learned not to be a heavy sleeper. Enough midnight training drills did that.

Terra wondered briefly, how Aqua and Ventus were doing. It had been days since he'd spoken to Aqua. She had clearly believed him, at least enough to not be angry with him for the death of their father. Hopefully, she would be able to take care of Ventus on her own. Ventus was a good bit older now and a little bit stronger. Strong enough to handle being by himself all day. He hoped Ventus had believed the story they had planned. It would make everything easier for them.

"Good night, Isa," he said, dragging himself out of his thoughts, "sleep well."

But he didn't.

For his credit, the prince truly tried. After bidding Terra goodnight as well, he laid there, in the darkness, all rigid and still, and he tried his best to sleep.

It even worked a little. Eventually, that is. As his adrenaline finally started to trickle away, it was replaced by pure exhaustion over the physical and emotional turmoil of the past few hours, and he was dragged unwillingly into a restless, shallow slumber.

It didn't last long. Almost as soon as Isa started to drift off, he felt his breathing cut off. Strong hands -- the wire -- pain -- blood -- suddenly, no air, and the world going dark around him -- helpless -- futile to struggle -- completely powerless, flailing, desperate, futile -- panic --

He sat bolt upright in bed immediately, pushing desperately around him to fend of his invisible attacker. An attacker that was, of course, not truly there. Isa had been a victim of nothing but his own paranoia.

That didn't stop him from gasping for air, hunching over with a hand pressed tightly to his throat, halfway to reassure himself there was nothing digging into the skin there. Fuck -- fuck -- He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and tried to breathe, completely overwhelmed.

The paranoia had gotten to him, causing phantom feelings of death and violence. Now, that fear lingered, though it was gradually being replaced by pure shame at his reaction.

"Damn it --" He muttered, fisting a hand in his own hair. He was beyond this -- beyond such juvenile, instinctual feelings.

So . . . why couldn't he sleep?

It was a very good thing that Terra was a light sleeper sometimes. He was never late for early morning drills, woke on the first chime from the clocktower, and was always ready to help if something happened in the middle of the night. Like a cry of panic or pain. He was familiar enough with it to not wake up in a panic himself when the prince woke with a sudden gasp and muttered phrase.

He was on his feet immediately, eyes starting at the prince then travelling around the rest of the room to find a cause. Why would the prince call out? Was there another attacker? Maybe he should have asked for some sort of weapon to defend with before going to sleep. Though, part of him doubted the prince trusted him that much yet.

Finding nothing externally threatening, he turned his attention to the prince directly. The prince had one hand at his throat and the other fisted in his hair. It didn't take an expert to figure out what had happened. Isa must have had a nightmare. Near death experiences tended to be traumatizing. Especially when it took place in an area where you should feel safe and protected. No wonder the prince woke in a panic.

"Your Highness?" he called softly, taking a step closer to the bed, "are you alright?"

What would the prince most likely need? Water seemed likely. He quickly retrieved it and offered it to Isa.

How was he supposed to comfort? Surely, it would be inappropriate to comfort the prince the same way he comforted Ventus, who had often had nightmares as well. Staying in bed with the prince and reading a story or singing a song was out of the question, not to mention a bit childish. He wanted to help, but he couldn't do it like that. The only problem was, is that he knew no other way.

Damn it.

Damn it . . . he'd woken Terra. The gods just couldn't be merciful enough upon him to have let the outburst go unnoticed, could they? His shame had to be witnessed by another person. And the concern in Terra's voice only made things worse.

Isa hesitated to answer for a moment, though he gratefully accepted the water with a polite nod. The glass was quickly downed and returned, the room-temperature liquid still somehow refreshing on Isa's abused throat. Slowly, his pulse started to settle, breath rasping but slowly taking on a more normal rhythm.

"I'm fine," He eventually managed to force out, unable to meet the other man's eyes. He remained slightly hunched over, hand still lingering on the bandage around his throat. "I -- I only panicked. That's all. I'm sorry to have woken you. Everything's alright."

The tone of his voice betrayed the fact that he was, perhaps, trying to convince himself as much as Terra.

Terra was no stranger to nightmares. Not because he had many himself, he hadn't had a nightmare since he was a child. But Ventus frequently had nightmares, even now after years in their family. Ventus would wake up yelling in pain from some horrible thing his mind convinced him was happening. But he could never remember what, only that it hurt. Severely. Many times it led to Ventus almost genuinely hurting himself in an attempt to escape the imagined pain.

He got the feeling that this was a similar situation. Isa's nightmare had been induced by the pain he'd experienced and thought he was experiencing again. It was unsurprising. Maybe a bit concerning, but not a surprise.

Putting the now empty cup aside, he stepped a bit closer to the bed. It felt weird and off to be towering over the prince. So he kneeled beside the bed. That was... also weird, but at least it didn't feel like he was staring the prince down.

The way the prince spoke didn't sound like he was alright. He had heard that excuse many times from Ventus in recent months. It seemed age brought the need to hide when you were hurting, if only to prevent others from worrying. Unfortunately, that tended to only make people more worried, since you were denying obvious pain or emotion.

"No need to apologize, Isa," he said gently, "I mean no offense, but you don't seem fine. I can only guess that you had a nightmare? Is there any way I can help you? I'm guarding where you sleep."

That should have been comforting. Terra was watching over him -- Terra would notice first if anyone unfamiliar entered the room. Terra was protecting him.

But Terra couldn't protect the prince from his own weakness and paranoia. And that weakness was, perhaps, the worst part.

There was a moment of silence in which Isa carefully formulated a response, taking breaths that were perhaps a bit too deep and eventually glancing towards the man kneeling next to him. "You can stand," He muttered, first off, finding the subservience of Terra's position more off-putting than he liked. Someone as weak as himself didn't deserve to be deferred to.

"I don't know if I'd call it an outright nightmare. . . " He murmured a moment later, half to himself. ". . . But I suppose that's the closest thing. I . . . honestly don't think there's anything that can be done. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight . . . "

An unsettled feeling started churning within him, then, and he couldn't help but wonder if this impossible fear would ever go away. Especially on other nights, when it would be more likely for assassins to come after him again.

Standing still felt wrong to do. It didn't seem like an effective method to help by towering over the prince in bed. But what could Terra do? The prince didn't want him kneeling apparently. Sitting on the actual bed was definitely not an option. So what? After a brief moment looking around, He grabbed a stool and sat it beside the bed. At least this way they were almost eye level.

He sighed, unsure what to do. He wanted to help, but how could he? He could protect from external dangers, but it was impossible to guard someone else's mind. Only Isa could guard against those thoughts and fears. Clearly, that was too much for the prince at the moment. So how did he help?

"Perhaps... if I were closer? Maybe it would reassure the part of your mind that's still scared. Knowing I'm here to protect you," he offered gently, "of course, I'm not forcing you, but it would be good to get as much sleep as possible. Any way I can assist in that, I'll gladly do."

"It's not your concern --" the prince bit back harshly before remembering that it very much was. In the next moment, he let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. " . . . Apologies," He muttered. "I suppose it is, isn't it?"

It was oddly off-putting how concerned the servant was. Isa wasn't in any mortal danger, but the other man still seemed determined to ease his mind. That fact itself was, somehow, comforting. Isa didn't understand how having Terra watching over him to begin with wasn't enough to ease his paranoia.

Still, there was merit to what the other was saying. Perhaps if he was reminded more of the other's presence. . .

"What exactly do you mean by closer . . .?" He muttered with a frown while glancing towards the other man. "You've already moved your bed."

That was a good question. What did Terra mean by closer? Their beds were already side by side. He couldn't exactly get closer without getting into the prince's bed himself.

Wait.

No, he couldn't possibly do that. Firstly, he shouldn't suggest anything like that. If the prince wanted him in his own bed, he would have told him to get into it. It was as simple as that. Him suggesting it might be horribly inappropriate. It would be horribly inappropriate. The prince had explicitly stated that none of that was going to happen, so they didn't need to share a bed. It wouldn't make sense. And it would be odd.

But it might put the prince's mind at ease? To have him even closer? That was something Ventus always needed, the reminder that another physical person was there. That someone was protecting him, and it had all just been a trick of his mind while he was asleep. Nothing more.

"N-nothing, your Highn-.. Isa," he said, looking away from the frown, "I simply thought that having another person nearby might be reassuring. I shouldn't have said anything."

That was. . . strange. Terra had been the one to suggest the idea, yet now he was stammering and clearly backtracking. The prince looked towards him in pure confusion for a moment, wondering why on earth the other man had mentioned being closer if he didn't mean anything by it. That simply made no . . .

Ah. Suddenly, the meaning clicked in Isa's mind, and he found himself a bit surprised by the implications. That Terra would be at all willing to be that close to him when he knew very well the role he served surely meant he trusted Isa on some level -- right? Still, it wasn't a chance he'd have ever thought the other man would have taken.

"Do you mean . . . join me in my bed?" He asked bluntly with a raised eyebrow. "Well. I . . . suppose it's large enough. And it couldn't hurt to try . . . but if the idea makes you uncomfortable, think nothing of it."

Isa himself wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea, but the part of him that was completely exhausted was willing to try anything for a bit of rest. Besides, his bed was large enough for them to lie down without touching, and have plenty of room besides.

This was probably the worst idea Terra had ever voiced aloud. He'd had plenty of bad ideas before, but he usually knew to keep them to himself. Apparently, this idea had decided to slip out anyways. Great. Now he had two choices. Back out and feel strange for even suggesting the idea. Or, commit to it and end up in the prince's bed. What could he choose?

Well... the prince had a point. The bed was really big, and it... wouldn't hurt to try. The prince already promised that certain things wouldn't occur, and he had no reason to disbelieve that. Especially not after the oddly specific plan to look like they were doing things when they actually weren't. In a way doing this helped that plan too, right? If anyone came to get the prince, they'd see them together in the same bed at least. People could make their own assumptions.

"It doesn't," he said, committing to his stupid idea, "I want to try to help you, Isa. It would only hurt you to not get enough rest. I'd hate to have that happen when I could have done something that might have helped."

Now it was just a matter if Isa was okay with it. And then the pesky thing of arranging the bed for the both of them. Man, was he going to regret this decision that quickly?

While the prince wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea, he didn't exactly have a better idea. He was still more than a little surprised that Terra had come up with the idea in the first place, and the servant's obvious concern was rather alarming.

Still. . . there was something comforting about it, as well. Even if paranoia lingered deep in his bones, he logically knew that he was completely safe in the other man's presence. Anyone else who came for him would have to get through Terra first -- and Isa knew that would be no easy task.

With a weary sigh, he shifted sideways on the bed and began adjusting the exuberant amount of pillows that adorned the thing. He hadn't been using near all of them, anyway. "No need to put it off, then --" He muttered, pushing back the covers and motioning the other in. He'd set a few pillows between where they would be lying -- just in case. He didn't want Terra thinking this was some sort of elaborate scheme to take advantage of him.

"It's likely more comfortable than your cot, anyway." Without another word, he laid back down, facing away from the space the servant would be lying in.

Oh, he was actually doing this. Terra was actually going to do this. He was going to be in bed with the prince. Not... doing anything, of course, but he'd still bein the prince's bed. When did life get so strange? He had even suggested this. Maybe this whole situation had caused enough stress for him to go insane.

Regardless, it had been his idea. The prince had agreed. There was a cleared spot for him now. He was too tired to care much more anyways. If this worked, then both he and the prince could hopefully get some proper sleep. It seemed unlikely, but he could dream. Oh, he really wanted to be dreaming right now. This was simply too exhausting.

Slowly and carefully, he got into his spot on the bed. He tried not to move anything as he got settled. Don't mess up the pillows. Don't pull on the blanket. Don't get oddly snuggly while sleeping. It was a good thing that the prince had put a sort of barrier between them. That meant he was less likely to roll over and hit the prince in his sleep.

As he settled into the bed, he noticed several things immediately. Firstly, the prince was right. This was far more comfortable than that cot. The blankets were warmer. The pillows were more plush. The sheets faintly smelled like they had been freshly washed and dried by the sun, mixed with some sort of flower that he couldn't place at the moment. Whatever smell it was, it was relaxing. It was so easy to get comfortable in the bed.

Once he settled a bit, he rolled over to face away from the prince. The main hope was that he didn't get cuddly in the night. He'd been known to do that. Now wasn't the time for that old habit.

"Good night, Isa," he said quietly, pulling the covers up a bit higher on himself.

Damn it all to hell, the prince was already regretting this.

He'd faced away from Terra in order to create the illusion that they could maintain the illusion they were sleeping in separate beds, hopefully preserving at least a bit of their comfort.

What he hadn't counted on was the ability of his still hyperaware body to feel the presence of another human being. When he felt Terra slide into bed behind him -- behind his back -- able to grab him at any moment, pulling, crushing him to his body and sealing away his breath --

Despite his now racing heartrate, Isa forced himself to breathe, instead returning Terra's wish of a good night. He refused to give in to the shame of his fear. It was only Terra at his back -- Terra, who had saved him. Isa should feel safer with his back facing the other man, and away from the door. Then again, the assassin had entered through the window . . . which was on Terra's side of the bed.

After a great deal of time wrestling with his convoluted feelings and lingering panic, the prince gave into the urge and turned over a bit in bed. Almost immediately, he felt a bit of the tension ebbing away from his shoulders, and let out a shaking breath. He didn't know exactly why this was so comforting. . . but it was.

Still, it would likely be a moment before he was able to sleep.

Yeah, this really hadn't been one of Terra's brighter ideas.

He'd never really shared a bed with someone before. Not like this at least. It had only ever been with family, when he was a child or if someone needed comfort. Never with someone outside the family. Certainly never a noble, much less royalty. Hearts, he was really in bed with the prince. Was this how he died?

He needed to stop being so dramatic. They were only sleeping in the same space. The bed was big enough that they weren't even touching. There was even a sort of pseudo-wall between them of pillows. Nothing to worry about. Nothing that was going to happen. He could just relax and sleep.

Which was easier thought than done.

At least he could relax knowing the prince was safe. Either as a defender or a decoy, he was protecting the prince better here. He should think of it like that. Tactical. Strategic. Words like that. Maybe then his heart would calm down about the whole situation.

When he felt the prince shift, he almost copied the motion. Nope. Don't do that. He went rigidly still. Just stay still and sleep. Don't think about the prince being this close. Don't think about being in the prince's bed.

But the bed was wildly comfortable. It was impossible not to relax into it. The mattress was soft. The blankets were warm. And he was far too tired to resist sleep much longer. So, despite his stress, he dozed off.


	8. Chapter 8

It took longer for Isa to fall asleep than his servant. He could hear the other man's breath grow steadier, falling into a rhythm of slumber. While the prince himself had been lying as still as the grave for quite some time, his mind was racing.

He was being foolish. Nothing was going to happen to him, tonight. On top of that, he had a guard, and a weapon underneath his pillow. A weapon he was sleeping with his hand on the hilt of, as of today, the leather cold beneath his palm.

Every now and then, he'd start to doze off, only to jerk back away with a hitch of breath. Luckily, his panic wasn't as great as the first time seeing as how he'd grown used to it. There was also the fact that, every time he opened his eyes, he came face to face with Terra's back. Why that reality was reassuring, he didn't completely understand. But he had a guard. A very loyal guard. And that was more than Isa had ever thought he'd have.

So, though it took time, he eventually drifted off. He hadn't realized it was happening at all, and he didn't remember when it was. Either way, he'd fallen asleep, and only realized he'd done so when he woke up the next morning, unharmed and at least a bit more rested than he'd been the night before.

He gave Terra a brief glance before standing, careful not to shift the bed and wake the other. He could continue sleeping as the prince dressed -- after all, they likely had quite the interesting day ahead of them.

It was a very good thing that there had been pillows between them in the bed. For, Terra had a particular trait that only came out when he was in larger beds, even more so when someone was sharing it with him. He was incredibly clingy while he slept. Perhaps it was just in his nature, or maybe his dreams lead him to need comfort or contact.

Regardless, his mind had felt the need to latch onto something while he slept. Luckily, he had ended up wrapped around the pillows that had been separating himself and the prince. It would have been far worse in every possible way had he clung to the prince himself. Not to mention it would have been downright mortifying.

When the prince woke and moved, he remained undisturbed. The excitement of last night had tired him, and his body seemed intent on getting that sleep back for as long as possible. Though, he did still shift slightly as the prince got up. He was a light enough sleeper to tell that something had changed but not enough to wake him.

So he remained asleep, mouth slightly open with a small bit of drool slipping out onto the fancy pillows.

As he dressed, the prince couldn't help glancing backwards towards his servant. Huddled in the bed. . . clinging to the pillows like a child. Making a bit of a mess of Isa's pillows . . . not that the prince minded. Pillows could be washed, and he had plenty. But the fact remained that Terra's current appearance was quite different than the noble, quick-thinking soldier who had saved the prince's life the night before.

For some reason, Isa found that amusing. He chuckled to himself, then shook his head and continued clothing himself in the remainder of his regalia. He had an important strategy meeting today to address a squabble that had broken out at the kingdom's border, and had to dress in his full finery in order to facilitate the most respect. A truth that was, quite frankly, rather sad in Isa's opinion.

It was odd, shifting into such relatively mundane activities after the activity of the night before. Everything was somehow simultaneously a distant dream, and far more vivid than anything he'd experienced before in his life. It had been the prince's first time facing death face to face -- and not one he was inclined to repeat.

It was also one he had no desire to make his subjects experience. Never, if he could help it.

Finally, he'd dressed -- in a high cravat, of course -- and had ordered a small breakfast to his quarters, which he settled on the table in front of the chaise to eat before he had to face the reality of the day ahead. He wouldn't wake Terra. . . not until it was time for them to leave.

Lord knows it wouldn't take the servant as long to put on his clothing.

After a short time being alone in the bed, Terra's subconscious became slightly more aware. Noticing something was missing had been the first step, then he realized that he was in a bed far more comfortable than his cot. Memories of the previous night had crashed into him at that point, and he was suddenly very awake and alert. He sat bolt upright, quickly looking around the room.

He relaxed the moment he saw the prince. Had he not seen the prince immediately, he likely would have gone into a panic. It was technically his first day guarding the prince, and he was not going to screw it up by not being able to even find the prince. A key part of protecting another person was making sure that person was within sight.

"Good morning, your Highn- _Isa_. Good morning, Isa," he said, quickly catching himself, "why didn't you wake me? If I'm meant to guard you, I'll need to be awake."

He quickly got up, habitually straightening the pillows and blankets on the bed as he did. He noticed a small wet spot on one of the pillows. Had he been drooling? Great, that wasn't embarrassing. Hopefully the prince wouldn't notice, or, at the very least, wasn't mad about it. It would dry quickly anyways, and the pillow could be flipped over.

That was a good question. Logically, Isa should have woken Terra when he'd gotten up. . . but the other had simply looked so comfortable he couldn't bring himself to do so. It was likely the first and only time the other man had slept in such a plush bed.

"I've only been awake for a moment," He insisted matter-of-factly, not looking up from where he'd been fixing his drink. "And I haven't gone far. I would have called for you." He winced at the sound of his voice as he spoke -- though better than yesterday, it was still rasping and a bit forced.

Turning his attention to his breakfast, he took a bite of a plain bagel and then waved the servant over to him. "Don't pay the bed much mind, I'll have to wash the bedding later, anyway. Come, get something to eat. We've got quite the day ahead of us."

Well, at least it hadn't been long. There was no need to get so worried on the first day. Few assassins would attempt an attack so close together, and whoever hired the guest from last night likely wouldn't learn that the assassination attempt failed for a few days. Terra didn't need to be so worried. Being tense would make him an ineffective guard anyways. He needed to be cautious, but not paranoid.

He walked over to the table and sat on the chaise opposite the prince. The prince was already completely dressed, which must have happened in the short time between the prince waking and Terra. It was impossible to miss the high collar. It was unsurprising. No one would want to show off such a fresh and dangerously placed scar. As sad as it was, many would see that as an opportunity.

"You're right," he said while pouting himself something to drink, "what all is planned for today? And if I'm coming with you.... what should I, well.... wear. I'm guessing something else from that same trunk." Not that he had found anything more decent inside it. But, then again, the point of the clothing inside it was to be indecent.

As if sensing the servant's eyes on his cravat, Isa instinctively raised a hand to adjust it. It wasn't particularly his style. . . nearly up to his jawline, and clasped in the center with an ornate brooch. He'd likely receive at least a few odd looks, but nothing like he would if he ventured out with his wound on full display.

Terra's question had him grimacing, and he simply nodded in response. "Yes. Whichever you prefer from the wardrobe I've provided. Anything in the chest should . . . serve our purposes, and be appropriate for your position."

It still didn't sit entirely right with the prince, but he didn't have much of a choice. "I'm uncertain if you know of the territorial dispute that's going on near the eastern border, but I'm meeting to discuss strategy with a few members of the court. It's sure to be. . . interesting, to say the least." He looked visibly disgusted -- the people with whom he was meeting had been known to give notoriously abhorrent suggestions.

Terra wasn't much happier about his new wardrobe than Isa was. It had been bearable when he'd been confined to the prince's rooms, at least only one person saw him like this. But now he was going to be flaunted throughout the entire castle like this. Or at least part of it. That thought alone was mortifying.

But it was made worse at the news of a strategy meeting. Not that long ago, Terra would have been thrilled to be included in a strategy meeting. He'd never been in one before but knew much of tactics and battle. He was a trained soldier, after all, and Eraqus had been one of the usual strategists. But that had all changed. He was no longer the promising son of a beloved commander. Now he was the murderer of the one man that everyone in that room would agree was honorable and just. Spared only because the prince had deemed him... _appealing_.

And he would have to go into the same room for potential hours with people that had known him since the day Eraqus had taken him in when he was three. People that had vouched for him along with Eraqus to get him into training. People that had known and loved Eraqus for years, decades in at least one case. How could he do that? They would all believe that he had killed Eraqus. And now he would be standing before them dressed like some sort of harlot.

"Yes... interesting, indeed," he said while looking down. He half-heartedly grabbed some of the food and nibbled on it. He knew he'd need the energy, but he didn't feel very hungry. Hopefully this wouldn't cause a problem for the prince...

It was only when Terra looked down towards his breakfast that Isa allowed a flash of sympathy to cross his face. He could only imagine the indignity of the other's position and, while he would do his best to spare Terra as much mortification as possible, that courtesy could only extend so far without attracting suspicion from the court.

These appearances would likely be better for Terra if Isa was treating him like a typical personal servant. After all, he'd be subjected to far greater humiliation in private. . . and his skimpy clothing would be considered a luxury, since servants typically went naked altogether when in the quarters of their master.

The thought made Isa more than a bit nauseous, and he resigned himself never to mention such a thing. The other man was likely already humiliated enough -- and Isa had rapidly become convinced that the punishment was entirely undeserved.

"We'll have to set out, soon, so freshen yourself up as much as you'd like when you've finished eating," He said in a slightly softer tone. "There's also something I have to give you."

Terra shook himself out of his thoughts. He couldn't dwell on this. It would be strange, uncomfortable, and most likely embarrassing, but it wasn't the priority. Even if he was officially nothing more than the prince's plaything, he was truthfully going to be acting as a guard. He had to stay focused on that task. Nothing else mattered.

He quickly finished eating, just enough to get by really. He couldn't stomach much else. But the day had too much in store to be working off an empty stomach. Though, he really hoped he didn't end up sick while facing everyone...

No. He couldn't think about that. He had to press on. He moved across the room and started digging through the truck of clothing he had. Hopefully, he'd find something that wouldn't make him feel overly uncomfortable while in the presence of so many that knew him.

He paused when the prince spoke, looking up at him. "Give me? What is it?" he asked, curious and maybe a bit hopeful. Please let it be something that will make this whole day more bearable.

The prince hesitated only a moment before standing, neatly arranging the dishes from their breakfast into a stack on the tray for easy transportation by the servant that would come to collect it.

Part of him still wondered if what he was about to do was a good idea. But he'd already committed to the idea, and it was too late to go back, now. So he moved to a trunk, rifled through it for a moment, and emerged with a small, tapered blade and something made of leather.

"I can't exactly rely on an unarmed guard to defend me from everything," He answered simply. "Nor can I arm you with a sword. But what I can give you is an easily concealed blade. This --" He held up the apparatus, one of worn brown leather, for the other man to see.

" -- Is a sort of harness. You'll wear it under your shirt, with the straps around your arms and midriff. The knife fits into a sleeve on the back, where it can lie hidden, but within reach should you need it."

Isa had worn it, himself, before on particularly unsettling missions where he hadn't been allowed to bring his claymore. It was thin and well-placed enough that, hopefully, it wouldn't show at all underneath even the more revealing of Terra's outfits, and if someone did happen to catch a flash of leather they'd think it to be a simple slave harness for far more unsavory purposes.

Keeping hold of the blade for now, Isa handed the harness over. "I trust you can manage to put it on?"

Terra paused in his search through his own trunk to look at what he was being offered. A knife. And a subtle way to keep it on his person. He'd never really been trained in stealth. He was meant more as a footman or cavalier, not an assassin. But this would be simple enough. He knew how to use knives. Armed guards were often more effective.

But this also meant the prince was entrusting him with a weapon. A weapon that could be used to defend... and stab him in the back. Of course, he wouldn't do so, but that had to have been something the prince had considered. This meant the prince expected him not to use it against him. He certainly couldn't risk damaging that trust, not that he would ever think to.

He took the harness and looked it over. It wouldn't be hard to put on. It was like the straps of a bag you carried on your back, just without the bag. Maybe he should have been a bit more shy and decent, but he shed his shirt (it wasn't doing much for him anyways) and pulled the harness on over his shoulders.

"Like this, right?" he asked, rolling his shoulders slightly to make it fit comfortably.

He supposed he'd have to find a shirt that accommodated this now. It was likely meant to stay unseen. A personal servant being caught with any sort of weapon would likely end poorly. Sometimes holding a butter knife too long could be seen as suspicious.

In all honesty, Isa hadn't expected Terra to so readily shed his shirt. Though he supposed there hadn't been exactly much left to the imagination. Regardless, he couldn't quite keep his eyes from scanning over the other's form, thinking that he _quite_ looked the part he was playing.

"Close. Here, you've missed a strap," He replied briskly, then stepped forward to catch the pieces where they had been dangling. In order to free his hands, he held the dagger casually between his teeth, then secured the strap as tight as he felt appropriate around the other man's rib cage. It fell just under the swell of his chest, and Isa dimly noted that the placement of the harness' straps did an excellent job of accentuating certain features.

Yes. . . even if the harness itself was seen through Terra's clothing, they wouldn't think anything of it.

Moving completely methodically, he adjusted the straps around Terra's shoulders to lie as smooth as possible, thinking to himself once again how much the look oddly suited him. Finally, he pulled away with an approving nod, then held the blade out carefully towards the other man, hilt first, in what was an extreme show of trust.

"The sheathe is between your shoulder blades. I know it's a small knife, but it's better than nothing. Now. Listen --" He caught the other man's eyes, his own gaze hard and unyielding. "Please. Do not make me regret trusting you with this. I do not believe that you would, but I need your word that you won't turn this weapon against anyone except attackers. I also need you to swear to me -- _on your life_ \-- that you will take every precaution to make sure the thing isn't seen.

"If it is. Even by accident. If you're caught. . . I can't let it be known that I armed you. It would ruin me, and thus doom my kingdom. I can't risk that. I would have to pretend that you'd found the weapon entirely on your own in an attempt to harm me, and advocate for your just punishment. i very much don't want to do that."

The very sudden proximity and touch between the two of them caused Terra's skin to flush slightly. It wasn't very often that... well, he'd never been in this position actually. Only family and maybe people during training had seen him shirtless. Even few had touched him during those occasions and only for medical purposes. This was... very much different. He decided not to think about it too much.

He stayed perfectly still as Isa adjusted everything. Nothing felt too tight or restrictive. That was good. The last thing he needed was for blood circulation to get cut off somewhere.

The prince's sudden serious expression and tone caught him slightly off guard at first. Then he listened to what Isa said and understood exactly why it had gotten serious. It was true. A personal servant wasn't meant to be armed. There would be an uproar if he was caught with a weapon, even if just temporarily holding one for the prince. At the very least, suspicious looks and guards called. If he had one that had clearly been concealed. Well...

The execution would be quick.

He carefully took the knife and reached over behind him to secure it on the harness. He rolled his shoulder, acutely aware of the position of the knife on his back and how it moved when he did. It wouldn't be too difficult to hide so long as he didn't wear any backless clothing.

Once he felt that the knife was secure enough, he looked at the prince with a serious gaze of his own.

"I swear that this won't be used on any undeserving. You trusted me to guard you, and I will. No action outside of that will be taken with a weapon in my hand. If possible, I'll try to think of ways to take someone down without the knife first. I consider it a last resort," he said firmly.

He sighed heavily. "And I understand. It won't be seen. That I can guarantee. I don't want that any more than you do. You have my word that the only people that will ever know that I have this are you and me."

"Good. See to it that's the case." Isa echoed Terra's sigh, relaxing a bit as he allowed the knife to be taken. Terra sounded sincere, of course, and Isa was near certain he was making the right decision, but he couldn't help but be cautious.

He glanced over the other man a final time, worries echoing in the back of his mind, but he forced them away in favor of turning and securing a ribbon with which to tie his hair back.

"I'm quite serious," He called over his shoulder as he did so. "I'll have no other choice, but doing so would cause me a great deal of sorrow. Regardless of your circumstances, I've decided that I quite like you. That's something you shouldn't take lightly."

It was a rare admission, and a form of high praise -- the prince rarely liked anyone, and he certainly never told them so.

Terra paused at Isa's words. _Liked him?_ How could he ever take the favor of the prince lightly? Especially after being given so much trust, not to mention protection. But it was certainly surprising. What had he done that caused the prince to come to like him?

Regardless of the how or why, he decided to simply accept the honor. It wasn't like he could refuse it anyways. Nor did he want to. It had only been a short amount of time, and the prince already decided he liked him. He wondered what about him caused that..

Well, now wasn't the time for those musings. Now was the time to get ready for the day. A likely very long day. He looked through the trunk a moment longer before finding clothes that would be... acceptable. Bearable at least.

He stepped behind the screen to quickly change from his nightclothes into the outfit he had chosen. A somewhat tight black top that had no sleeves and the front of it stopped about his mid-sternum. The back of the top went higher, covering the knife more. Over the top, he pulled on a black shrug. It had a higher collar that fastened with a small leather belt at his collarbone. Longer, velvety sleeves with patterned openings made it look a bit strange on him, but this wasn't really about style. It was about looking a part. But at least he could save most of his dignity with the pants he found. They were tight, yes, but it covered the entirety of this leg, which he was grateful for at this point.

He stepped out and checked himself in a full length mirror. There didn't seem to be anywhere he could see the knife or straps. Good. Though, he ought to get an outside view.

"Does this cover it entirely? I think it does, but I want to be sure," he said while turning around to face away from Isa. He pulled some of his hair out of the way to make it easier. His hair had grown a bit, hadn't it?

At the sound of Terra's voice, Isa turned around again and looked over his outfit with a critical eye. Yes. . . he _certainly_ looked the part. The corset-based design of the "shirt" -- Isa used the term only loosely -- was flattering to the soldier's figure, and his fashion sense didn't appear too horrid, either, if the "overcoat" he'd chosen was any indication. This was also one of the outfits that showed the least amount of skin, though every article clung to Terra like a glove, leaving no doubts as to his position.

The sleeves of the shrug were wildly impractical, but Isa supposed it would have to do. It was only for appearance, after all. And a fine appearance it was. Isa was starting to worry, in fact, that certain other nobles might be tempted to _share_. He'd have to remain aware.

He stepped closer to the other's body, searching for any sign of the harness or -- more importantly -- the knife. It appeared to be quite well hidden, and the prince nodded his approval. "Yes, it's covered," He replied, then turned and donned his own gloves and outer robe, completing the ensemble of his regality.

"Are you ready, then?" He gave the courtesy of asking. This was going to be Terra's first time leaving these chambers as Isa's personal servant, and the prince didn't imagine that it was going to be easy. Likely not for either of them.

Ready? Could Terra ever be ready for this? It was one thing to simply be cooped up in this room. As easy as it would be to call the room a prison, it was a very comfortable one in which he was well fed and treated kindly. No one had to see him except for the prince and himself. Nothing here was public. Only the knowledge of him being here was. Not anything behind the doors.

But he was about to leave the room, face other people, for the first time in about a week. Not only that, but the people he was about to face were people that had known him before. Some since he was a child. All people that knew and loved Eraqus, but all people that believed that he was responsible for his father's death. And now all people that would see him as a man that got away with murder, patricide... because the prince had found him appealing.

Well, that's what everyone would believe at least. It wasn't the truth, but it was what everyone thought to be the truth.

"Yes... I'm ready," he said after a moment. It was then that he squared his shoulders and lifted his head. If he was going to endure this, he had to stay strong.... and focus on being a guard. Nothing else mattered for the day. "Lead the way, your Highness."

And lead the way, he did.

After donning his silver circlet -- the prince was having no one question his authority today -- the pair departed from the prince's chambers and began the journey to the conference room. Through torch-lit, stone hallways, and down an ornate staircase, Isa held his head high and regal, ensuring simultaneously that Terra was close at his side.

They were attracting attention, of course. Far more than Isa was comfortable with. As the crown prince, he ordinarily attracted a bit, but it was nothing like the glanced and hushed whispers he was getting now that he'd actually dared to bring his pet outside the chambers.

In fact. . . the oggling looks that Terra himself was attracting weren't approved of at all. One noble in particular went a bit slack-jawed as he passed, turning to do another once-over as he passed the pair.

He earned himself quite the glare from the prince, then immediately whipped back around and bolted away. " _Animal,"_ Isa muttered under his breath.

Terra had decided the best course of action would have been to fix his eyes dead ahead and ignore the world around him. Ignore the stares. Ignore the whispers. Ignore it _all_. But he couldn't. He had to pay attention for any sort of threat. Any sort of attacker could come from so many different places in a large, extravagant castle like this. So he needed to pay attention. He needed to listen and watch.

Even if that meant noticing all the attention on him.

Hopefully, it wouldn't be a long walk to this meeting. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. Though, it wasn't like he was on his way to much better. The prying eyes of strangers might be better after the judgement glares of those that used to be friends.

He decided it was better not to comment on what Isa muttered. He had felt the noble's eyes on him. It had been too unabashed for him not to notice. But he was grateful that the prince had caused it to stop. He'd thank Isa once they were back in the rooms. Not out here in front of everybody.

Fortunately, the rest of their journey continued without major incident. The looks didn't stop, but most of them were at least a bit subtle.

Upon arrival at the chamber, Isa wasn't certain whether or not he was relieved. The gazes of those inside the chamber would likely feel a good deal worse than those of people passing in the hall. But, there was no point in delaying and, after a brief glance to make sure Terra was still close by his side, he opened the door to the chamber and entered.

The others were, of course, already gathered. It was a conglomeration of mostly older men; former captains who had aged out of their fighting ability and now concentrated their efforts primarily on strategy, leaving the actual battle to their younger counterparts.

Of course, not every one of them were as incapable of fighting as they presented, but were all too eager to move into their higher ranking, cushier positions. They rose as he entered, courteous enough to maintain appearances, even though Isa himself wasn't foolish enough to think he held all of their respect. It was likely a mixed crowd, at best.

"What do we know?" He asked as he strode towards his place at the table, a few people parting around him like the sea. He didn't dignify them with a single glance, focused instead on the diagram laid out on the table. He knew very well what they were looking at, anyway.

Terra.

They were all looking at Terra.

He tried desperately to ignore it, but he simply couldn't. Not when each stare held such intense emotions. It couldn't even be considered a collective stare, since each one of them held different emotions in their gaze.

Most of them looked angry. Likely due to his very presence. Whether because of who he was, what they believed he had done, or simply because they didn't think anyone else should be in here was hard to distinguish. The most likely one was what they believed he had done. A few of the men in the room had trained alongside Eraqus. Some of them had been trained by Eraqus. And _all_ of them knew Eraqus. In fact, there was a chair obviously vacant. It was covered in a black banner. A sign that the one that should have been sitting there... was dead.

It was impossible to miss the disgust in many of their expressions as well. After all, many of these men had known him since he was a child. Perhaps some still saw him as one. But now he wasn't a child, and in their minds, he was now a bed slave. His dress didn't exactly help not give off that impression. It really was shameful how he had gone from a soldier with a bright future.... to a personal servant with nothing.

Though, the smug looks didn't go unnoticed either. And quite a few of them were. Likely men that hadn't liked Eraqus, finding some sort of sick pleasure in seeing Eraqus's son in such a disgraceful position. _Those_ stares were certainly making him the most uncomfortable. They also made him sort of angry. How dare they be so smug and spiteful when the man Eraqus had only died a little over a week ago? It was disrespectful!

However, the worst look of all came from only one man. The oldest one present, Yen Sid. Yen Sid had grown up with Eraqus, training with him, fighting beside him. Yen Sid was there the day he had first been brought home. Truly a man that knew him as well as Eraqus did. And his gaze was the worst. It wasn't angry. It wasn't disgusted. It wasn't smug. It was... sad. Sorrowful and... disappointed. As if he knew that Terra didn't deserve what was happening to him, but he also believed that Eraqus was gone because of Terra. Caught between the love for his deceased friend and that friend's son.

Out of all the men there, Yen Sid was the only one still in mourning robes. For a moment, he felt wretched. He hadn't even gotten one day of proper mourning, had he?

Terra clenched his jaw tightly. He wouldn't allow himself to be overcome by his emotions. Not here. He had to keep his expression neutral and ignore it all. Even as each gaze bore down on his heart.

At the sound of the prince's question, most of the men's gaze turned to the map that lay in the center of the table. One began explaining what had happened. An attack near the border. Inadequate number of forces positioned there. Casualties. Enemies still camped near the now ruined town. It was horrific. Terra almost couldn't stomach hearing it. No wonder Eraqus had said he disliked these meetings...

Another man, whose gaze remained on Terra, grew increasingly irritated. Before the one giving the report had finished, he snapped. "Isn't this supposed to be a _private_ meeting, your Highness?" he asked, clearly still staring at Terra behind the prince. Terra looked away.

Isa didn't.

Instead, he moved forward just a bit to block Terra from the admiral's view, casually enough for it to be perceived as coincidence. Without faltering, he caught and held the other man's gaze with his own, which was hard and unyielding.

The atmosphere in the room was already uncomfortable, and Isa was having none of it. Anger, disdain, and an abhorrent amount of lust was tangible in the air and, while Isa was unaware of the exact complexities of the situation, he knew all too well that it wasn't comfortable.

"Apologies -- either I've heard you incorrectly, or you've had the audacity to challenge my authority upon my first appearance in the room." Though calm, his tone held irrefutable authority and a thinly veiled anger. "Or do you truly feel threatened by a personal servant? I thought my court consisting of higher amounts of courage than that. I must say, I'm incredibly disappointed. I'm _hardly_ the first person to tote a plaything around with them -- it's only here to look nice, and I hardly think it counts as an uninvited _person._ "

Internally, he shuddered to say such things, but he needed to keep up appearances.

The room went deathly silent. Anyone that wasn't staring at the prince, was looking at the man to see the reaction. Which, so far, was a stunned, insulted look of shock. The look, of course, also held a barely veiled amount of embarrassed rage. Certainly, the expression of a man that wanted to argue or snap back but couldn't due to who it was that had spoken to him.

"My apologies, your Highness," he said between clenched teeth, "continue your report, Lieutenant Colonel."

After a moment of tense silence, the man that had been recounting the events of the attack slowly began to speak. Mentions of monetary losses and the number of enemies. Standard for a meeting of this kind, but no less tiresome to listen to for minutes on end.

That... hurt somehow to hear the prince say. Terra knew that appearance wise... that's all he was. Not even considered fully a person, certainly not someone with the rights and freedoms of a person. A plaything. Only for show. An _it._

He did, however, appreciate that the prince had gotten between them and had gotten the man to back off. He wasn't sure he could take that look anymore. No one had ever openly hated him before. Sure, he knew people were jealous of him when he had been training due to the praise and attention he got from higher ranking guards, but this wasn't the same. That man hated him because he found Terra's very existence disgusting. Disgust was always the first step to hate.

Maybe it would be best if he... tried not to listen. He didn't look at anyone there. But he couldn't help but look at the map and listen to the report. This was, of course, what he had always wanted to do. Become a leader. Protect commoners with troops he trained. That seemed unlikely now, but he could indulge himself... Just a bit..

The offended man's expression was absolutely delicious, and Isa held his gaze until the very last moment before the bastard finally looked away. Every ounce of anger and insult was drunk in by the prince like a finely aged wine, and he took a moment to relish in his small victory.

Immediately after, he turned, unfazed, back to the Lieutenant Colonel. It truly was an absolutely horrid solution, with no clear solution, at least from Isa's perspective. Everything he could think of resulted in the loss of men, which wasn't something the prince was willing to resort to.

His annoyance over Terra's treatment momentarily faded to the back of his mind, replaced by worry over the state of his kingdom. That was, and would of course forever be, his utmost priority.

"Potential solutions?" He demanded of the captains in a composed, but somber tone. He knew they'd likely already been thinking, and he was prepared to review what they'd propositioned. And likely regret it.

"I have an idea," a new man spoke up. Terra dimly recognized him as a Major General that had only recently earned a place in this room. Also one of the soldiers that had dragged him to the throne room to execute him. Perhaps it was unfair to do so, but he didn't like him. The soldier had only been doing his job...

"My plan is simple," the Major General said while moving a few small pieces on the board. Each one represented one unit of soldiers led by one commander. He put one directly beside the set up that represented the enemy camp.

"We use one of our weaker units, perhaps one composed of already injured soldiers, to lure those bandits out of their camp to fight," he said, moving pieces accordingly, "and while the bandits are distracted. A much stronger force will come from a position behind the fighting and attack the bandits, finishing them once and for all."

The Major General looked proud of his idea and presentation, but Terra stared in horror. That couldn't be the serious plan. That would cause so many to die. Not to mention it would be completely _pointless._ Based on the terrain of the land, getting behind the bandits would be impossible. How could he not see that?

Despite the embarrassment that had come only minutes before, Terra now flared with anger. How could that soldier be proud of his plan to get a whole unit of injured men killed? Even if it did wipe out the bandits, what good would that do if all the soldiers that lived in the village were _dead?_ Who would protect the civilians then?

"That won't work," he couldn't help but say. It was said quietly, almost inaudible, but very much aloud and full of his barely bridled anger. "The mountains will be in the way."

He needed to calm down. He wasn't allowed to speak here. If he did that, it could cause a problem for him and the prince. Even as he shook with rage, he couldn't do anything about it.

It was an extremely good thing that Terra had spoken.

Isa wasn't one for risky strategies to begin with. He liked things safe, thought out, and meticulously planned, accounting for every detail. On occasion, he had been known to advocate for sending warriors into challenging situations, but it was always within their ability. There was always a _chance._

He would never allow the essential sacrifice of a group of wounded soldiers. People, his _subjects_ , who had chosen to nobly serve their kingdom, used as little more than bait. The very suggestion had him livid beyond belief, and he was very close to firing back a retort that wouldn't have worked out well for him.

It was right on the edge of his tongue, about to escape like a thundering hurricane, uprooting every bit of etiquette in the room and likely most of the appearance that the prince had carefully constructed. He tensed, turning a glare towards the man who had spoken, and was about to open his mouth when he heard his servant's quiet voice.

The sound snapped him out of his unbridled rage, and he actively forced his composure back into place. Losing his temper would get him nowhere. That was close - he had to be careful, damn it.

But he also needed a more justified reason to refute the horrid plan without coming across as a bleeding-heart. He was also interested in what Terra was saying. So, for that reason, he reached behind him to tug the servant closer by the little belt that closed over his chest, pulling him closer to his side.

"What was that, pet?" He demanded in a low voice, raising a hand to play absentmindedly with a lock of the other mans' hair. "You'll have to speak up." No one could argue with it if he'd given his permission, though they'd already attracted quite a few looks given that Terra had spoken in the first place.

The silence was deafening. No one else had heard Terra speak, but they now all knew that he had. The prince was now even giving him the _permission_ to speak, maybe even loud enough for them all to hear. No, he couldn't do that. Not with all these eyes back on him, most of which were scornful glares, especially from the one that had introduced the plan.

He stumbled forward when the prince had grabbed him, having not expected it at all. A shiver went up his spine at the hand in his hair. It was just for show. Don't think about it too hard. Focus on the map and that awful plan.

"The... the mountains would be in the way of any attack. It's behind the camp, even though it doesn't show on the map," he said, quiet enough just for Isa to hear, "but there... is enough forest surrounding the camp to surround them then corner them at the mountains. They're... impossible to pass at the place where they're camped."

It had been maybe a year, but he had been to that area before. Eraqus had always told him a good soldier knew the lands they swore to protect. They had ridden together through a large amount of the country. He had studied many maps that Eraqus himself had made. There were some areas he didn't know, but he prided himself a bit on knowing his homeland. He was glad that knowledge might help here.

Isa listened intently to every word, maintaining an outwardly detached demeanor. Truly, he was surprised that Terra had put this together, not to mention more than a little bit impressed. Isa himself hadn't ventured to that area, and thus would have known nothing of the mountains without Terra's word.

If he'd been monster enough to agree to the horrific proposition, it wouldn't have been only the bait soldiers sacrificed. He would have sent his men into a bloodbath.

The rage rising within him steadily mellowed out, replaced by grim satisfaction and determination to expose the captain who'd been speaking for the idiot that he was. And now, he had the perfect means to do so.

He let out one, single chuckle, cruel and devoid of all humor, as he pulled Terra close to him and continued curling his hair around his fingers. "Clearly you think our troops expendable," He said in a stern tone, fixing the man with a cruel but now calmer stare. "Equally clearly is that you don't know your own kingdom well enough to form a battle strategy any better than a slave. You've left a glaring flaw in your plan -- one _it’s_ managed to recognize where you've failed. Quite frankly, I can't say that I'm surprised. It's rather obvious."

He nodded towards the map, leaning forward for a moment to examine it. Yes. . . Terra was right. The mountain range was completely absent from the map. "Tell me -- who's drawn this map?"

The man in questions's face was so tense and red that it looked like a tomato that was being crushed. Clearly insulted and infuriated, he glared at Terra. How dare the pet even speak in here? Much less challenge him? It was even worse now that it seemed the prince was siding with a _slave_ over a trained strategist.

"I drew this map myself," he said with a slight growl, "I went to the area personally a few months ago. So what, your Highness, is flawed with my plan that _it_ pointed out?"

Terra was getting genuinely irritated at the man. Was that man too prideful to notice his own mistakes? The man couldn't have been in that area and miss an entire mountain range. It was ridiculous. No one was that unaware of their surroundings, then stubborn that when proven wrong.

He kept his composure. Even as he felt chills cover him as the prince continued to touch his hair. Even as he was being stared at, quite hatefully from some of the people in the room. If he snapped in front of all these people, it would cause problems for all of them.

It was impossible not to tell how tense Terra was with how close he and Isa were together. The prince doubted his touches were helping, but there wasn't anything he could do about that. He had to keep up appearances, after all, and was also a bit wary that if he did stop touching the other man that he'd lose his temper completely.

Not that Isa could blame him. This complete bastard of a man, standing in front of them with face red and swollen like a swollen boil, deserved far more scorn than he was likely to receive in his life.

Isa was more than happy to deal out as much of that as he could, right this very moment. Someone making such an abhorrent and doubly impractical suggestion, then daring to speak to the crown prince with such disrespect, deserved to be humiliated. The last thing Isa needed was his rhetoric surviving, and other soldiers deciding to side with him.

So he had to publicly shame the man. Here and now, without mercy or remorse.

"Tell me, then," He demanded in a commanding tone, gradually holding more power as he spoke. Not once did he drop his eyes from the other man's, keeping him pinned like a bug. "When you were scouting out this region, how on earth did you happen to miss the entire mountain range that lies just north of where you've set the camp? A mountain range that prevents the very attack you've suggested, and would result in the outright slaughter of numerous soldiers if we were _idiotic_ enough to go through with such a foolish plan?"

His eyes narrowed for a moment into a glare, and he pulled his dagger from his waist before stabbing it through the faulty map and into the table, right at the location of the missing mountain range. "There, I've fixed it for you. How entirely shameful. A slave who barely leaves its masters bed seems to know its kingdom better than my highest ranking strategists -- you _disgust_ me.

"No, we'll use the mountains to our advantage instead of ignoring their existence. Hide in the cover of the forest and corner them against the mountain walls -- it's a much less risky and more beneficial plan, and will result in far fewer casualties. Is that a clear plan to everyone? Or would anyone else care to suggest we throw away valuable manpower because they've failed to notice an entire mountain?"

The stunned silence that followed the knife being embedded into the table could be physically felt by all in the room. Everyone's eyes went from the knife to the prince to the man in question in rapid succession. Of course, said man was only more visibly angry. Shamed by the prince in front of many high ranking officers, a few of which were the highest rank. It obviously didn't sit well with the man.

The man glared down at the knife that was now embedded into the map. It was unlikely that the map could be used again, if not for the hole in it then for the inaccuracy that had been so bluntly pointed out. He didn't speak, merely staying silent for his brooding.

It was then that Yen Sid spoke. Something that seemed to surprise all in the room, as if he hadn't spoken in a week. "I know that place. The prince is right. My apologies for missing that detail, your Highness," he said in a tone of voice that you knew was wise and old even without knowing anything else about the person speaking. "Your plan would likely work. Should we act after sunset, we can have both surprise and general confusion of night on our side. If that plan satisfies the prince?"

At Yen Sid's question, the man, who was still very much brooding, scoffed. He spoke more quietly, as if he meant to only be grumbling to himself, but it had been far louder than that. Loud enough for all to hear.

"Apparently, we don't need the prince's approval. Only his pet's."

Something snapped in Terra from that comment. Though he knew that was truly his position now, he refused to be treated as such by a man that ignored entire mountains then tried to send injured soldiers to the slaughter. It was abhorrent that that man was even in this room. He didn't _deserve_ to be.

And, it was true, the moment the prince's hands were off him to stab the table, the anger flared to a point Terra couldn't quite control. He slammed a hand on the table and glared the man down.

"Well, I'm sorry a pet knows more about our own country than you do. I'm sorry it has more humanity than you _ever_ will. Because at least I know better than to send strong, loyal soldiers to their deaths, especially when they're already injured. How dare you? Do you have any honor at all? Or were you also going to volunteer to die alongside those soldiers you would have used at bait. How _dare_ you?" he snapped. He couldn't even stop once he began.

The anger didn't fade, but he instantly knew he'd messed up. He didn't care at the moment. Because he knew he was right. More right than that man would ever be in life. He was sure of that.

Terra was correct. Entirely so. He had said every word that Isa was thinking, and clearly felt every ounce of anger at the man's grumbling. Isa himself had been about to snap -- put the man into his place with a few choice, well chosen words, and hopefully shut him up for the rest of the meeting after agreeing with the first man who had spoken, who clearly had a better head on his shoulders. The prince was no stranger to challenges to his authority -- they were infuriating, but he could handle them.

Only he'd never gotten the choice. Despite the truth in his words, and the part of Isa that was impressed by the other man's display of ideals, Terra had done what was arguably the _worst_ thing in the situation he could do for the both of them.

He could already feel the horrified gazes of the others in the room, shocked at best and disgusted at worst. If he willingly let his pet go off on a high ranking officer like this -- no matter how correct the man was -- his own reputation in the courts would never recover. Not to mention he'd never be allowed to keep a servant deemed feral.

He had no choice. None at all. Even as the very thought turned his stomach into knots.

So, cold-faced and as stoically as he could manage, he reached forward and grabbed the other man by the back of the neck, dragging him back to his side and spinning him around before delivering a sharp slap to the side of his face. It was nowhere near Isa's full strength -- just enough to look convincing -- but that did nothing to lessen his horror at his own actions. This was undeserved, and he knew it -- but he had no _choice._

"Hold your tongue, wretch," He growled, then placed a hand on Terra's shoulder in an attempt to force him to his knees. "Don't forget your place simply because I've allowed you off your belly."

It didn't matter that the strike hadn't been full force. It surprised Terra so badly he unintentionally reacted as if he'd been punched in the face, not just slapped. He turned his head along with the hit, even stumbling a bit from the shock of it all. His eyes were blown wide with shock. He'd known he'd stepped out of line, but he hadn't expected this outcome.

All he could think to do was comply with the prince pushing him down. He didn't speak again. Simply sitting on his knees on the floor, looking downward. His cheek stung, but he didn't touch it. What kind of idiot was he? He shouldn't have spoken at all. He knew that the prince would have had to step in somehow. He was just a _pet_ now. One that had acted out of line. This was the expected reaction, if not worse than this.

The swift and clear punishment had done little to relieve the tension in the room from his outburst. The man, especially, still looked furious along with now utterly repulsed. Few looked almost satisfied and certainly smug. The majority looked shocked. A personal servant would never dare to even whisper in this situation. The fact that one would not only speak aloud, but also insult a high ranking soldier was simply unheard of.

Yen Sid had looked away. He waited a moment after the prince had spoken before looking back in that direction. It was clear that something now grieved him greatly as his eyes glanced at the empty, covered chair. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"Would his Highness like to wait to finish this meeting at another time?" he asked carefully. He didn't look at Terra. He didn't need to. Terra could feel the emotion pouring off the only man who's opinion mattered like it was his own. And it was unbearable.

While he didn't have any idea of the exact relationship between the speaking commander and Terra, Isa could practically taste the assortment of tense energy that was building in the room. He needed to end this -- and he needed to do it quickly, with as much power and authority as he could command.

And he could only pray it was enough not to suffer severe consequences for Terra's outburst -- though he wasn't naïve enough to believe they'd escape entirely unscathed.

"No," He said sternly, standing tall and squaring his shoulders even as he longed to bow his head to Terra and ask for forgiveness. The more time went by, the more the prince realized the servant was possibly the last person in the room deserving of any sort of punishment. Let alone the sort Isa was pretending to give him. He hadn't even deserved that single strike -- he'd only been speaking the truth. A truth Isa wished more than anything had the chance to be recognized.

"We'll act on my plan as you've suggested -- after sunset. Corner the enemy against the mountain. No one will be used as bait. That's my final order. I leave the rest in your capable hands," He made eye contact with Yen Sid, then, as the person in the room who'd pissed him off the least. For some reason, Isa hated what he found there.

"Meeting adjourned. You may continue to plan as you wish, but I've got other things to attend to." On the last few words, he forced a glare to his face that he directed towards Terra, leaving it to those gathered to imagine the punishment that the outspoken slave would suffer as his master drug him from the room.


	9. Chapter 9

Yen Sid simply nodded before turning to the other commanders in the room to discuss specifics. He didn't look Terra's way as the young man was dragged away. He couldn't bear seeing that.

But the man that Terra had snapped at could. He stared after the prince and his servant with a bit of sadistic smugness. It was obvious in his cruel glare that he hoped many things would be done to the servant that dared speak to him that way, and that most of the things he wanted were horrible. But he didn't voice any of them. He had to save what little appearance he had left.

Terra, himself, was beginning to panic. This was it. He'd expended all the mercy he'd been given. Why couldn't he have just kept his damn mouth shut? Had he not learned any self control? It was shameful. And now the prince was angry with him. He'd stepped so far out of line that he feared that slap had only been the beginning. Surely, it had to be. He'd not only overstepped as a soldier. He'd overstepped the authority of his prince. In front of several high ranking officers. That wasn't a small offense.

He only had so many options and only a short amount of time to sort them out. He could run, which was the worst idea out of all in his head. He would only end up caught and certainly executed then. He could stubbornly insist that he was right. The prince had already said he could speak freely, maybe if he argued his case, it would turn out ok. That didn't seem like the best plan either. The only possible option was to beg and hope the prince wouldn't cast him away.

The moment they were back inside the prince's room, he dropped to his knees, ignoring the pain from the hard stone. He looked at the ground and kept his hands tightly in his lap. In this moment, he seemed quite small despite his true size.

"Forgive me, you Highness. I... I shouldn't have done that. At all. I just got so angry, and I couldn't control it. I'm so sorry. Please... forgive me," he said, praying this wouldn't end worse than it already had.

And Isa had been foolish enough as they'd left the meeting to think he couldn't feel any worse.

Part of him had severely hoped that Terra would remember everything they'd discussed previously enough to know he'd simply been keeping up appearances. Clearly that. . . wasn't the case. And Isa didn't suppose he could blame him. Terra was in an extremely vulnerable position, after all, and was right to be afraid.

Especially when Isa had physically struck him. Isa had never done that before -- not to anyone, unless they were sparring. The prince actually felt quite ill, and he could still feel his hand burning. It was horrid. . .

He was horrid . . .

It was impossible to be angry at the servant. Not when he hadn't been wrong in the first place, only acting in an unsafe manner. Regardless of any fault, he couldn't bear to keep up the illusion any longer -- not now, when they were in private, and Terra had collapsed to his knees begging not to be hurt.

"Stop that --" Isa muttered, shaking his head, then reached down to pull the other man to his feet, keeping his hand on the other's bicep. " -- Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you -- Haven't I shown you that?"

He sighed, then stepped backwards, running a hand through his hair. ". . . No, I suppose I haven't. I'm the one who should be asking forgiveness. I didn't want to strike you -- but if I hadn't --- things would have gone worse and I --"

He held the bridge of his nose for a moment, clearly stressed. "Are you alright?" He finally demanded. Terra's reaction to the hit had been larger than he'd expected given that he'd tried not to hit him too hard.

Perhaps part of Terra did remember that they needed to keep up appearances. It only made sense that, given the roles they were playing, the prince would strike him for behaving how he did. It would have been more suspicious if the prince hadn't. The slap had simply been the necessary action to keep them both out of trouble. It hadn't even been that hard of a hit.

But it still scared him.

He wasn't naïve enough not to know what typically happened to people in his position. Those that were occasionally seen following their masters often had marks or walked with limps, yet weren't allowed to say anything about it or act as if they were in pain. It was almost uncommon to see one without any sort of damage.

It was something Eraqus had mentioned a few times in passing disgust. He'd always said the best way to see the true nature of a person was to see how they treated someone that was entirely at their mercy. It was obvious to see just how awful some of the nobles that passed his guard posts were, simply due to how unsteadily the person that followed them walked. Yet nothing could really be done about it... It was the way people had done things for almost two decades..

And now he was in that position. Entirely at the mercy of someone that had been raised in this environment and may not even know another way to treat a servant. It felt foolish to think that. Since bringing him here, the prince had done nothing but insist that he wasn't going to harm him. That he wouldn't be treated like other personal servants. Terra had no idea why, but he wanted to be able to trust that.

Which was hard to do after being struck.

He stood when the prince moved him, not looking up to meet his eyes. He tried to listen. He tried to calm down and just listen. But that was hard to do with the blood rushing in his ears. Though, the prince briefly seeming to apologize caught him off guard. The prince hadn't... wanted to? Maybe it really had just been for the appearance of it all. But..

He looked up at the prince, a bit startled by the sudden snapped question. "Yes.. It... It really wasn't that hard. I was just... shocked. I didn't know how to react," he said, looking back down as he spoke, "I shouldn't have caused that situation in the first place. I'm sorry."

"I can't blame you for being angry," Isa growled back, still clearly frustrated. He was pacing, and had torn his circlet from his brow to clench tightly in a fist as he repeatedly ran a hand through the top of his hair, every now and then tightening his hand among the strands.

"But no. You shouldn't have. Damn it --" This was impossible. There was a reason Isa's plots very rarely involved other people. He'd never trusted someone with anything this valuable before, and he was beginning to regret it. A few more slip ups like that, and Terra would be causing him far more harm than good.

Not to mention what would happen to the guard himself. It was an eventuality that Isa was growing more and more unable to bear the thought of -- and it seemed he was a lot more careful with Terra's life than Terra himself.

" -- Impulsive idiot." His steps halted for a moment, and he whirled on his heel to look the other man in the eye. "Any action of yours reflects horribly upon me, don't you understand? If word gets out that I'm unable to even control my own servant, the little authority I've managed to build will be thrown entirely out the window. I won't be trusted to make any decisions, and I won't be able to fix any of the uncountable, unjust fuckery that my father implements on a daily basis. And you won't stand a chance --"

He took a deep, steadying breath, squeezing his eyes closed. "They'll deem you feral, and incapable of servitude. They will pull you away from me, and kill you without a second thought. Do you understand? There's monsters out there that would do far worse than you to a light slap, and you're making it very hard to keep you away from them, and I --"

Unable to look the other in the eye any longer, he turned around again and took a step away, one hand braced on his hip and the other wearily holding the bridge of his nose.

". . . But that doesn't justify it. I had to. I . . . I had to, or they would have grown suspicious. But that doesn't make it any less awful that I've turned my hand against someone with no defense. I'm sorry."

This may have been the most complicated situation Terra had ever found himself in. One misstep could end with problems for both of them. Admittedly, a much more permanent and unpleasant problem for him than for the prince, but it would leave a mess for the prince to have to deal with behind him. He didn't want to cause someone that was trying so hard to avoid problems to have to pick up pieces on their own.

He was no stranger to his actions reflecting on others. That was part of the reason he worked so hard to be the best soldier he could possibly be. If he hadn't, then everyone would mock Eraqus for having a weak disappointment for a son. He couldn't stand for his father's reputation to be tarnished due to his actions. It was the same situation now. Only he wasn't simply risking the pride of his father, this could mean his life.

Slowly, he looked back up at the prince. This whole mess was his fault. So he ought to fix it. If only by reassuring the prince that it would never happen again. But how to do that? The prince was right in all he said, though there were some things that Terra hadn't known before. Perhaps he should just try to soothe the prince and try to figure something out.

"You only did what was necessary," he said while taking a careful step towards the prince, "It feels wrong for you to apologize to me, but, for what it's worth, I won't hold it against you. I was at fault for putting you in that situation in the first place. I won't make that same mistake again, no matter how much my temper gets to me."

He carefully thought over his next words. He had to make this better somehow. Have some idea that would fix this problem. Others likely expected the prince to punish him for what he'd done, including the king himself apparently. So how to convince them that that was the case to avoid suspicion? Aside from truly being hit, of course.

"Would . . . it help if it appeared that worse has happened?" he asked slowly, "that . . . in retaliation to my outburst, that you hurt me more than just one strike across the face? You want others to believe that I'm . . . under your control, right? Surely, there must be a way to convince them. I won't speak out again to cause a show, but there has to be a way to trick them, right?"

He honestly didn't know what he was saying. He was simply scared. The prince almost sounded scared. Scared that he could get hurt. Scared that power could be lost. Scared that the kingdom could fall into a worse state. There had to be a way to remove that fear. Maybe.. this was the way how.

For a moment, Isa had no idea what Terra was even suggesting. Nor did anything the other was saying help to disperse his nerves. He'd have to be foolish to think that this wouldn't have consequences, and it was only a matter of time until they reared their head.

Pulling himself out of his own nerves, he took a deep breath and slowly turned again to look at Terra. The prince was scared. He'd have to be foolish not to be. He was scared, and frustrated, and more than anything hated being reminded of his own powerlessness.

After a moment, he managed to make sense of what the other was saying, and nodded before striding to his dresser and rifling through it. "Yes -- yes, that's an excellent point. We'll have to make it look as if I've punished you, because I'm certainly not . . . you were right, after all, even if you are a bit of an idiot. I can't believe that bitch had gall to suggest --"

He cut himself off with a huff, pulling out a small box containing an assortment of foreign makeup. Isa hated the stuff, but it was occasionally necessary at balls. The box itself was mostly untouched, and Isa was glad for that. Hopefully he'd be able to do something with it . . .

". . . Adjust your clothing," He ordered while glancing over his shoulder and starting to prepare the makeup kit. "Have it askew, disheveled, rip it if you have to, just -- make it look moderately convincing. Then I'll . . . do my best to make it look as if I've punished you. You'll have to walk as if you're in pain, understand?"

It was a bit comforting that the prince insisted that he wasn't going to hurt Terra. He'd been scared that one strike had just been the beginning. But now he knew that that would only ever happen if he acted out in front of others. Nothing would happen in private. It was all an act. He simply needed to learn to play his part. Lest the whole play get interrupted by a harsh, unpleasant reality.

There was a small bit of reassurance to know that the prince had agreed with him as well. That commander had been out of line. That didn't make his outburst any better, but it meant that at least he had the prince on his side opinion wise. Even though the prince had followed that statement by calling him an idiot. It had been foolish for him to snap like that, even if he'd been another commander in the room.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on that. Now was the time to prepare. It was likely that someone would trouble them about the matter, or Isa would have to leave his rooms for some other event. Whatever it was, he had to be ready to act as a guard... while pretending to be an injured, broken pet.

Which included looking the part. So he reached behind him to the knife strapped to his back and unsheathed it. He had to be careful not to damage his clothes in a place that would expose the knife. So the back of the shrug at least needed to stay intact. But that didn't mean other places couldn't be cut.

It was with that thought that he cut the sleeve of his shirt at his bicep, careful not to actually injure himself but make it appear as though his sleeve had been harshly cut. He carefully did the same to a spot at his thigh. That seemed enough to him for the knifework at least. He then put the knife away.

He ruffled his hair a bit, making it look disheveled. Then his jacket and top got shifted to look askew.

"Is this enough?" he asked the prince while stepping a bit closer, "not too bad but not too obviously staged?"

As soon as he finished mixing the makeup as best he could with his limited knowledge and the instructions on the inside of the box, Isa turned to look Terra over. This had to be convincing -- very much so. The only thing worse than it being known that Isa hadn't punished Terra for his outburst would be it being found out that they'd staged injuries.

That would end . . . very badly, indeed.

So he looked the other man over with an extremely critical eye, every now and then reaching out to adjust a piece of clothing. "It looks decent," he nodded in approval. "Now -- we'll have to make you look punished, but not broken. I'm not exactly an artist, but I'll do the best I can."

The prince was, in reality, quite the adept painter, and had multiple classes in portraiture each week. It wasn't something he'd ever take pride in, or admit to having any worth, but the manner in which he mixed the colors and began decorating the other man's skin was practiced and, ultimately, rather convincing.

Rather quickly, Terra's skin became scattered with faint, fresh bruises, a bit of "blood" trailing from his hairline and from a slightly split lip. His chest also received the same treatment, as did the skin beneath every tear that Terra had made in his clothing. Perfect, shallow little scrapes and cuts -- they looked rather convincing, so long as no one attempted to touch them.

Isa even went so far as to darken the area underneath Terra's eyes, as if he'd been punched. Overall, when he pulled back, the effect was quite sickening, and he couldn't bear to look at it.

"It'll do --" He said with a nod as he glanced the other's form over, knowing it was as good as they were going to get.

And it was very well that he'd finished because, right at that moment, a guard pounded on the door announcing that the King had requested the presence of his son.

. . . And his pet.

Terra had never had any sort of makeup applied to him before. It felt entirely foreign on his skin, and he quickly decided he didn't like it. Maybe that was just because of the situation they were in that caused such a quick feeling of displeasure. He had to do this due to his own mistake. Had he held his tongue, none of this would be happening. Perhaps it was his punishment in a way. Though, it was really more mild discomfort over anything else.

When the prince was finished, he glanced in a nearby mirror. It was almost terrifying how convincing it looked. Almost as if he had, indeed, been hit, cut, and generally "punished" in a way that some of the nastier nobles here would approve of. It had almost been too much to even look at, even when he knew it was only make up. This would fool just about anyone so long as it wasn't touched, especially the parts that had yet to dry out.

He had just been able to say something to the prince about how realistic it all looked when there was a knock at the door. The voice of a guard relaying a summons to the King's court was... very anxiety inducing. So soon? Had someone from the meeting already finished and told the King what had happened? Surely not. It had hardly been an hour. It must have been the man he'd insulted directly. That man seemed the type to immediately attempt to cause as much unjust trouble as possible.

Perhaps it was good timing, then, that the guard had come now. The façade was complete. It appeared as though the prince had taken this short amount of private time to "appropriately" discipline his servant. So long as the make up didn't get messed up or no one touched him, then they could easily get away with this. Though, one more piece might make it complete.

"Put a little on your knuckles," he whispered, unsure how close the guard was to the door still, "as if you hit hard enough to even hurt yourself. Wouldn't that help convincing?" He sounded anxious. How could he not? This was all happening so fast.

Damn it. Damn it.

Even though Isa had expected this, the dread and frustration that took him over as a result of the summons was no less powerful. After calling back to the guard that they would arrive shortly, he cursed under his breath, replacing his circlet on his hair, and turned to Terra with a nod, then quickly grabbed the makeup brush again and crafted a few quick abrasions on the skin of his knuckles.

Terra was correct in that this would help sell their story, but even the falsified wounds made Isa feel ill. He'd have never actually have it in him to be that cruel to another human being -- especially one that was completely under his power.

As he finished with the paint and blew on it to dry, he started rapidly thinking through any possible outcomes to this meeting. He wasn't foolish enough not to know what it was about, and the odds were all too likely it would end in the worst case scenario. He'd have to do whatever it took to prevent that.

So, before they left the room, he grabbed Terra by the shoulders and forced the servant to meet his eyes, speaking in a hissed whisper. "This isn't going to be simple. He's likely angry with us. Trust me -- whatever happens, trust me, and follow my lead. I promise, I won't let anything happen to you."

Why he'd become so determined, and when, Isa didn't know. Only that he had. It was extremely rare that anyone managed to catch his attention, let alone impress him, and the protectiveness he felt towards the servant was growing quite rapidly.

Which is why, perhaps, as they arrived at the throne room escorted by a guard, his stomach turned as he realized the king already had the bloodstained block in place at the side of his chair, ready to be drug forward and put to use at the slightest warning.

Mouth dry despite his unfaltering outward composure, he bowed to the king and pressed on Terra's back, encouraging him to kneel. "Forgive me, father, I was rather . . . occupied."

Terror. Pure terror. Once the shock from how sudden the summons had been had lessened, that's all Terra felt. He could almost taste it. What were they going to do? Surely, there would be no fooling the king, especially not if the king had been told what had happened during the meeting. This was going to end the worst way imaginable. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Nothing but.. trust Isa. When the prince had grabbed him, all he'd been able to do was stare Isa in the eyes and slowly nod his head. It wasn't going to be simple. The king was going to be angry. All he could do was trust that the prince could find a solution. He just had to follow whatever the prince did to him. Even if that was unpleasant in any way. It'd certainly be better than being dead. He couldn't die. He just couldn't.

It was impossible not to tremble the slightest bit. He'd never felt this much pure fear before. Not once. The only time that came close was when he'd been dragged to the same room they were going to now for a swift execution that he didn't even deserve. This was similar to then. Except now he knew for certain there was a way out of this mess. Only he had to be extremely careful to get to it. If he wasn't, he'd still end up dead.

He decided the trembling might help make the act more convincing anyways and didn't try to resist it. As they walked, he limped as authentically as he could without either of his legs truly being damaged. He simply had to put on the persona of being weak and hurt. That would be the most important thing he had to do here other than follow the prince's lead. Just focus on stumbling realistically.

Stepping into the room brought on a fresh wave of terror that brought its own wave of trembling. Seeing the item that he almost died on before didn't help. Just follow the prince's lead. So when Isa pushed his back, he made a bit of a show falling to his knees in a way that did, in fact, hurt, but that didn't matter. It was better than being dead. He kept his head bowed, looking pointedly at the ground. It was better that he didn't look up at the king, both for the situation and so that no emotion betrayed him. Though, he doubted he could show any emotion that wasn't tainted by fear in some way.

"That's your Majesty, to you," the king ordered back when Isa spoke, expression hard and one of pure malice. He'd stuck his jaw out stiffly to make up for his lack of any actual imposing aura, succeeding in looking far more like he was sick than anything else. But Isa wasn't near naïve enough to laugh -- especially with the king insisting on having his title used. Clearly, whoever had told -- likely the very man who he and Terra had offended -- had had a strong influence over the monarch.

So the prince restrained his angry grimace, holding his bow for longer than was likely needed in order to compose himself. He'd felt Terra trembling beneath his hand as he pushed him down, and could only imagine how the way he'd fallen had hurt. For some reason, that did nothing to ease his rage.

But the presence of the block did. It was a reminder of what he was trying to avoid, and allowed him to calm his heated, racing thoughts into a cool neutrality.

So, when he looked back up at the king, it was with clear eyes and a polite demeanor. "Certainly, your highness. Might I ask the reason for my summons?"

"I think you know very well," the king replied, eyes now glued on Terra. "You've let your bitch get out of line already, haven't you? Can't say I'm surprised. You never have had the gall to properly lead anything." An extremely thinly veiled comment, and one that had Isa on guard. "It's had the audacity, not only to speak, but insult one of the highest ranking captains in our forces. Explain."

"Forgive me . . . your Majesty," Isa managed to breathe out in that same carefully controlled, polite tone, while holding his bow. He didn't dare glance towards Terra, both not wanting to call attention to him and afraid of what he'd see on the other's face. "It was my first attempt allowing it out of my chambers. I wanted to parade the thing but, clearly, it wasn't ready. I assure you it's been disciplined severely for the incident."

This was all his fault. Terra mentally berated himself. Why couldn't he have just held his tongue? Certainly, the prince would have said something at the time instead if he hadn't. The prince had told him that he had been right about the man in question. But it wasn't his place to say so anymore. It really never had been, but it was even more extreme now. The consequences much more severe.

So he decided he wouldn't make the same mistake. He stayed silent, staring at the floor. He moved as little as possible. He barely even breathed. Though, he did shift just enough to make the false wounds easier to see. If the king saw that he had been "disciplined" enough to already have visible damage, that would help things, right?

Perhaps now wasn't the time to do so, but he thought of his home. He desperately wanted to be there instead of here. No fear. No complicated acts. No hateful or lustful stares. None of it. Just him, his sister, and his younger brother. His father... should have been there too... He hadn't seen Aqua around the castle. She must have gotten permission to stay home for a period of mourning... Something he wouldn't get to have...

"You don't get to decide that," The king answered, voice rising significantly, as he pounded a fist on the arm of his throne. Isa's jaw clicked shut immediately in response -- not out of subservience, but out of a need to quell a rising surge of anger.

"Such incompetence. Such gall. I will not stand for it," The monarch continued to roar, in that same forced authoritative tone. It did little but strain his vocal chords, though Isa ducked his head further in a falsified show of respect. In reality, he was hiding the fact that he was grinding his teeth together, desperately trying not to lose his temper. If he did . . . it would cost them both. One far more than the other. And that was something the prince wouldn't stand for.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," He finally managed to utter, in as neutral a tone as he was able. "I accept full responsibility for my servant's behavior. This has been my first attempt to tame one, as I'm sure you know, and a few hiccups are to be expected. I assure you, nothing of the sort will happen aga ---"

He was cut off, again, by his father's barking voice. "Bull. If you can't keep the thing under control, which seems highly unlikely, I'll have to get rid of it. I will not have a feral servant parade around the castle insulting my best men." He then snapped his fingers, and one of the guards at his side moved forward to pull the execution block into position.

Isa, much as he loathed to admit it, panicked. "Your Majesty, please --" He said in a much louder, sterner tone, one that actually caused the guard to stop moving. "I assure you, I'm perfectly capable of controlling it. Please -- I believe you've always said the most wild stallions are the most fun to break."

Though he said the words with a smile, his stomach was churning at having to utter the words, heart pounding a bit in his ears. It was incredibly hard to remain outwardly unaffected, and every muscle was as tense as a board.

He didn't even feel any relief when the king raised a hand to stop the soldier's movements, at the very least delaying the grim eventuality. He didn't relax because, along with that raised hand, his father's lips twisted into a smirk, and voice growing quieter, taunting, and somehow worse as he then ordered Isa to "Prove it."

Terra hadn't needed to look up to know what was coming. This was it. He wouldn't even get a chance. No chance to see his family. No chance to explain what happened to Yen Sid. No chance to protect the prince. No chance for anything. No chance for life. He should have accepted that he was a dead man from the start. It would have saved a whole lot of trouble for everybody, especially the prince.

He could barely hear the sound of the two royals talking over the blood rushing behind his ears. Panic made his heartbeat as loud as a gong. Fingers gripped his pants tightly. His entire form was shaking. Nothing could contain the unbridled fear he felt.

But then it stopped. Not the fear, but the sound of the block moving. It was then that his brain recognized some of what had been said. He didn't understand it all. He didn't want to understand it all. But two words echoed loudly in his mind. Prove it. An order. A challenge.

Follow the prince's lead. No matter what. Whatever was about to happen was likely going to be unpleasant in some way. He didn't know in what way exactly, but he knew it would be whatever was necessary and nothing more. The prince only had to convince the king. He just had to hold up whatever act was necessary to convince the king. Whatever the prince thought to do, he had to do it. Even if it hurt. Even if it went against or beyond anything he'd ever done before. Now was the time to simply do it. Whatever "it" was.

Prove it.

Isa had no choice. He'd been prepared for this -- of course he had -- but that made it no less detestable.

He wondered, not for the first time, if it would be better for Terra if he were to let him go. Surely a swift death would be better than continuing to put up with the indignity of his position. Isa would have preferred it, himself -- a million times over. Surely, death would have been better than what Isa was about to do.

But Terra's desperation didn't reflect the same ideals. I can't die -- he'd said that. Too much to do. Far too much to live for. A purpose -- a family -- things that were far more important than his dignity.

These thoughts, along with a final glance towards the other man's fearful, trembling form, completely broke Isa's resolve. So, without another word, and while making direct eye contact with his father, he dragged Terra to his feet, only to immediately bend him backwards into a deep dip, supporting his weight and not at all caring if the other maintained purchase on the floor.

He only had the briefest of moments to make eye contact, hoping that Terra would remember what he'd said. Their agreement -- Follow my lead. I promise, I won't let anything happen to you.

Now was the time to live up to his own words.

Isa crushed their lips together, kissing the servant deeply, quickly, and heated. Forcefully parting soft lips and tasting the inside of the other's hot mouth, hands groping unabashed at the muscles of Terra's back and shoulders. Not allowing any time of adjustment, he continued the outright ravishing movements for as long as he could without running out of breath, eventually pulling away with a sinfully wet sound and a quickly broken string of saliva, continuing to hold the servant's body in his arms.

"Does that satisfy his majesty?"

By the time the prince had grabbed him, Terra had already accepted whatever was about to happen. It didn't matter if it hurt. It didn't matter if it shamed him. All that mattered was that he got out of this alive. He had to live. No matter what.

The prince had already shown more restraint than anyone else would have in the same position. Whatever happened, it was something the prince had decided was the best course of action. One that would fix the problem he caused. All he could do was trust that. Trust and go along with whatever the prince did. Even if he hated it. It was better than being dead. He couldn't die. Not yet.

That beat of eye contact. The second of reassurance. It was long enough for him to understand that the prince intended to take the challenge head on. He just had to allow it. Act as though he had no will to resist. Submissive. That was the only way to get out of this unscathed.

Honestly, he had expected to be struck. He had been in many fights while training. He knew how to take a hit then keep going. That's all he had to do now, but then he had to act like it hurt far more than it did. He could handle that. It wasn't hard. It wasn't complicated. Just a bit of a beat down. Simple and easy to endure.

Except it wasn't.

What actually happened was so sudden and overwhelming that he probably reacted better than he would have acting. He gasped in surprise, immediately being taken over by the odd feelings that came with the attention. It was mostly panic, in all honesty, but he felt something else. Something unknown. He didn't know the words for it. But he decided something about this was out of order, even with these odd feelings.

When the prince pulled away, he went a bit limp in shock. What had just.... It was part of the plan. But... What was that?

In all honesty, Isa was mostly satisfied that Terra hadn't startled and reacted with violence. There had been a minute fear in the prince's mind that he would have somehow startled Terra enough that the servant would retaliate against him, struggling, shoving, or even hitting the prince simply as a reflex.

If he'd done that -- well, the consequences would have been extremely swift, and Isa wouldn't have been able to intervene.

Fortunately, Terra had not only refrained from doing anything of the sort, but he'd reacted entirely perfectly. The small gasp, followed immediately by going limp and submissive. It was the perfect way for someone in his position to behave, and odds are there were others out there who had undergone rigorous training to achieve the same result.

Isa, of course, had to take credit for said falsified training, and regrettably let Terra fall to the ground with a limp thump as he looked back up at his father, pulling a kerchief from his pocket to clean his lips.

And, fortunately for the both of them, the king looked pleased. Perhaps too pleased. Far more so than he should have. Far too pleased for his son to not be completely, utterly sickened.

He held Isa's eyes for a moment, and Isa stared back wholeheartedly. And -- as always -- Isa was the last one to blink. Letting out a sigh, the king's posture relaxed slightly and he raised a hand to dismiss the guard who'd been waiting by the executioner's block. He still looked suspicious -- but he couldn't exactly argue with the results of what he'd just been shown.

". . . Very well. See to it that it doesn't happen again. You'll not find my mercy extended."

Internally, Isa nearly collapsed with relief. Externally, he was unaffected, only bowing politely before dragging Terra to his feet and starting to back out of the throne room. "I assure you, your highness, it's not a courtesy I'll take lightly. It won't happen again."

It was a miracle that Terra had been able to snap himself out of the shock well enough to catch himself. He really only succeeded in not slamming his face into the stone floor, his elbows hitting the ground first. It hurt, but he didn't make a sound more than a small grunt.

He simply stared at the floor as the final words were exchanged between the prince and the king. How did he even process this? It had been necessary. It had been the plan. It was because he had messed up and had caused so much trouble. But it was going to be okay now. Right? Their façade had worked, right?

When he was suddenly dragged to his feet, he panicked for a moment, going rigidly still. But then he realized it was only the prince and went along. They were leaving. It had worked. They'd evaded the axe this time, and he was not going to get in this position again. As much as it hurt his pride, he was going to have to learn to stay silent. No matter what was said.

As the prince led him away, he tried to process everything that had happened. The meeting. The outburst. The slap. The summons to the king. It was all too much in such a short amount of time. It was a good thing he had eaten breakfast, even if he felt a bit sick now from the stress.

But one thing kept worming its way back into his mind no matter what. The empty chair, covered in a black banner covered in silver embroidery. Eraqus's chair. Beside which sat Yen Sid. A man that he had known since his youth. A man that was almost a second father to him, if only because of how much he admired him. The look of disappointment on Yen Sid's face. Yen Sid really believed he had killed Eraqus. And he had no way of telling him otherwise. Not to mention... Yen Sid was still in mourning clothes. It was customary to wear such things for two weeks... He hadn't even gotten one day. He didn't have any way to honor his father after death. No time to cry. No time to pray. No time to mourn. Now that he had seen Yen Sid, still mourning, it was eating him up inside.

What sort of son was he?


	10. Chapter 10

In total, they'd only likely been out of the room for a few hours, yet Isa could have sworn it had been years.

He was exhausted, shoulders bearing a heavy weight and a dull ache thumping in his temples. He was only grateful he hadn't anywhere to go after the meeting and, thus, could retire back to his chambers to convene with his off-color bodyguard.

It hadn't even been Isa's head on the block . . . it hadn't been the prince's humiliation . . . nor his father killed. Not that he would have been particularly affected if he had been. Isa had been expecting emotion -- he knew things were hard for Terra. But he didn't know exactly how. He didn't know exactly what Terra was feeling, and he didn't know how to offer comfort.

He didn't know why he offered comfort.

Sighing, watching Terra out of the corner of his eye as they settled back in the prince's chambers, he shed his outer robes and circlet. Perhaps he took too long to do so -- just a tad longer than normal. Perhaps he wanted to look busier than he was.

"Are . . . you alright?" He asked over his shoulder, and he knew it was a far too shallow question. "I apologize for . . . doing such a thing. I know I promised I wouldn't do anything of that nature. Now I've both hit and violated you all in one day."

The prince was, of course, asking about more than that, and it likely showed in his tone. He was asking about the meeting -- the outburst -- the near death experience. The people Terra had to have known who looked at him in such an unfamiliar way.

It had to hurt. And, while Isa didn't begin to know how to lessen that hurt. . .

He desperately wanted to.

By the time they had made it back, Terra felt completely and utterly exhausted. His body, his heart, his mind, all of it, entirely drained of energy and meaning, leaving him feeling almost hollow. But it wasn't a numbness. Numbness would be almost welcoming compared to the deep seated sorrow and shame he felt in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to lay down and not get up for hours. Maybe ever.

He'd been silent entering the room, immediately crossing the room to sit at the window. Perhaps he should have tried to run that first night. Perhaps he should have gone with Aqua like she had begged him to. Perhaps he should have taken his family and run away to some hidden place or another country and lived out his life happy and safe. But it was too late for that now. Far too late. So he just stared out the window, looking out at the distance. It felt like the view was mocking him. It faced home.

The worst was over for now, at least for this day. He hoped that it was. He doubted he could take much more and remain in control of his emotions. Even the barely maintained control he held now was cracking under the stress. It would only take one word for him to shatter entirely.

And it came. From an unlikely place, but it did come. The prince's almost gentle concern finally made emotion slip out. His lip quivered, and he looked down, hair covering his eyes. He grit his teeth harshly and gripped his sleeves, almost hugging himself.

"You don't need to apologize," he said quietly, "it's my fault this all occurred. I knew better than to act that way and did anyway. I was just so angry, and... I had to prove it was still me. I... I couldn't stand to see him stare at me with so much sorrow as if I had been broken. I couldn't... I had to show him it was still me. Even as... he sat there by the empty chair..."

Part of Isa hadn't even expected a response. Least of all one so humble and revealing.

He paused in the middle of adjusting the already perfect folds of his hanging robe, silent and still as he took in Terra's words. Him . . ? Who was . . . ? He'd put together that Terra was talking about the meeting, but who had. . . and what. . .

Oh. The mourning chair. For Eraqus -- Terra's father. Whom Terra had been accused of killing.

Isa suddenly felt terrible, and internally cursed himself. Why on earth had he drug Terra into such a precarious and vulnerable situation, where he'd be faced with such a brutal reminder of his loss, and of his presumed guilt? Additionally, it appeared there was someone quite important to him in the room. The prince thought critically for a moment before speaking, finally managing to piece together to whom Terra was referring.

"I take it you're referring to Yen Sid?" He asked quietly, pretending to work again and not looking directly at the other man. He didn't want to draw attention to any emotion the other might find it necessary to express. "I . . . apologize. For putting you in such a humiliating position in front of someone whose opinion you care for. He's . . . a good man." Indeed, the man Isa was speaking of was one of the few in his court who held Isa's respect.

Even if the prince had looked Terra's way, he would have seen none of the emotion silently falling from brown eyes. Terra's gaze was fully out the window, facing away from the prince. The side of his face was hidden by his hair. None could see. He didn't want anyone to, either. It was too much already for him to even be in this position. The last thing he needed was another person bringing attention to his quiet tears.

He held no resentment towards the prince. Not really. Only a small amount of sorrow and anger towards the entire situation. This wasn't where he belonged. Even if it was better than prison or death, it wasn't where he wanted to be. He shouldn't be here at all, really. Had he been given any sort of fair trial, he could have had a chance at redeeming himself. Then the prince wouldn't have needed to intervene. And he would be home with his family, grieving together the way that they should.

Now, as insult to his already gushing injury, he had had to face Yen Sid. The only other person in his life that he would equate to a parent, or, perhaps, an uncle. Regardless, Yen Sid had been there from the beginning. The very moment he had gotten home, Yen Sid was here, telling him stories of magic and fairies and all sorts of wonder. Yen Sid used to praise him as a prodigy. That he would become the strongest warrior in the kingdom, worthy of serving the king himself.

But that hadn't been the look he had gotten. No longer was Yen Sid's stare one of wise calculation with the slightest amount of humor. It was now one of sorrow. A sorrow that lead Yen Sid to still wear mourning clothes when others had changed. A sorrow that lead to sitting next to empty chairs, wishing they'd be suddenly filled with the one missing. And ultimately, a sorrow because the son of the deceased was now so disgraced that none would remember the glory of the one before him.

It was awful. Yen Sid was clearly torn. Torn between mourning and anger for the death of Eraqus and concern and love for the young boy he helped raise. There was one way to fix that, but he couldn't risk doing that. What if Yen Sid didn't believe it? He'd lose the lose of the only family he had any chance of access to in this castle.

"Yes... it was Yen Sid," he said quietly, "Yen Sid trained and fought alongside... his best friend. He was there the day I first came home. He was there on my first day in the castle. But now... he wants nothing to do with me."

He spoke more quietly to himself. "He has every right to feel that way as well."

Every detail that the prince had managed to overlook, lost as he was in trying to maintain his façade and focus on the battle strategy, suddenly registered in his mind. Terra's temper and desire to prove himself. . . the low, somber voice with which Yen Sid had spoken . . . The odd look in his eyes, so different from that of anyone else in the room. . .

His dark clothing. . . the empty chair. The banner.

Isa was a complete and total moron. He never should have placed Terra in such a situation -- and he never should have taken so lightly the impact of Terra's disgrace upon those who had once cared for him. To have the best friend of your father . . . one whom you'd been accused of killing . . . someone who'd very nearly raised you, suddenly see you as nothing more than a murderer and bedservant. . .

And the reverse. Isa could only imagine the conflicting emotions that Yen Sid must be feeling. Betrayal . . . sorrow. . . perhaps, if they were lucky, at least a bit of disbelief. And . . . above all of that, surely . . .

Yen Sid would have developed resentment of the prince. Regardless of crime, there was no way that someone as honorable as the Admiral would look upon someone who'd reduced the child of his best friend to such a state. The look in the man's eyes -- not one of pure hatred at all -- betrayed that. Of course, he was likely angry with Terra as well. . . but there was no way that he was the sort of person to wish Terra's presumed punishment on anyone.

Thoughts moving rapidly, Isa's stilled, but didn't yet turn around. "No . . . I can't imagine he does," He murmured, quiet but clear. "Not after what you've been accused of . . . and what I've been forced to reduce you to."

Without another word, he moved to the chords on his wall to call for a guard. "I don't see any other way about it, then. We'll have to fix that."

Terra truly didn't comprehend the prince's words at first. He was far too lost in his own mind and thoughts to even begin to process the immediate word around him. There was far too much turmoil in his heart. Too much pain and exhaustion. Even simply looking off in the distance didn't help. How could it?

He hadn't even noticed when he'd gotten so tired. It had really only been about a week. This feeling had been festering just beneath the surface, hiding under his façade of strength and mental fortitude. But too much had happened today for him to be able to hold it all back anymore. Tears fell, and, even as quiet as he had always been when he cried, the occasional hitch of breath or sniffle found its way out.

Yen Sid probably didn't want anything to do with him anymore. Convicted and shamed. Why would anyone want anything to do with him anymore? Even after telling Aqua the truth, their family would still bear the sorrow and shame from the death of Eraqus and the accusation of him killing his father. Only made worse by the prince making him essentially less than a person, even if it had saved his life. He could only imagine the abuse, mostly verbal and social, that Aqua was enduring because of this mess. Not to mention the sorrow it had brought to all that had loved Eraqus and his family. Especially Yen Sid. A man that had almost been another father to them.

Then the prince's words registered in his mind. Fix it? How could this possibly be fixed? What was the prince even talking about? Why was the prince summoning a guard? Had he finally caused enough trouble? Or was it something else?

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking over at the prince. His eyes were red from tears that still stained his cheeks. He really didn't care about his appearance at the moment.

It had been the worst of all mistakes to look over towards the other man.

The instant Isa registered Terra's flushed face and tear-stained cheeks, what was left of Isa's resolve broke. There were no guarantees that anything he did would make this better -- and it was impossible to rectify completely -- but he was damn sure going to try. The sight of such pain, such undeserved pain, was like a wound to the prince's chest. It hurt far more than the one around his neck.

And it was far more chocking.

Before he spoke, he carefully fixed his expression into one of neutrality, turning back to the busywork of straightening his impeccably organized wardrobe.

"I've called for a soldier. I'm going to ask for an audience with someone, and you're to come along with me. Compose yourself, as quick as you can -- but no need to worry. You have my word this meeting won't be nearly as intense as our last."

He was wary to reveal anything else for fear that Terra's nerves would cause him to refuse. One way or another -- Terra needed to speak with this man. And he would get the chance to do so. Isa wouldn't allow him time to overthink by allowing revelation too quickly.

For that reason, he whispered to the guard that arrived at his door that he demanded an immediate audience with Yen Sid at his earliest convenience, under the guise of following up on that morning's interrupted meeting. He was certain it would be responded to promptly.

Another meeting? No, Terra couldn't handle anything else today. He simply couldn't. He was far too exhausted. Every part of him longed to simply lie in bed and stay there. No more meetings. No more stares. No more people. There had been far too much already today for him to add on any more. What if he broke apart completely in front of someone important? Someone that would get them in trouble with the king again? He couldn't do that again. He just couldn't.

Yet, he had to. He'd promised the prince that he'd act as a bodyguard for him. It was only his first day doing so, too! Some guard he was. Cracking under the pressure so soon. He'd trained for this role for years. There was no reason for him to allow his emotions to overwhelm him so much. He was supposed to control his emotions, dammit! Not allow them to consume him when he had a job to do!

So he tried to force all those feelings back. The sorrow, the shame, the anger, the helplessness, the grief. He needed to bury them deep within himself and not allow them to resurface. No matter what. He rubbed the tears off his face and eyes. Hopefully, he didn't mess up any of the makeup. He'd have to continue the part, after all.

He managed to succeed in controlling his emotions, at least a little. The result made him feel a bit hollow, but at least he was no longer falling apart. It was likely that he was still on the edge of tears, but he could hold it back for now. The prince said this meeting wouldn't be as intense as the last one. So he could probably hold it together till they returned to their rooms. Hopefully.

"Of course, your Highness, I'll... be alright," he said while slowly standing, "I didn't... mess up my appearance, did I?"

Terra's reservations were written on his face, plain as ink on paper. Isa didn't suppose he could blame him. It had already been an incredibly long day, and if the prince was exhausted, he was certain that Terra was doubly so.

But this had to happen, and delaying it would only make things more difficult. Not to mention those tears would continue. . . and that was something Isa just couldn't stand.

So he maintained his façade as he stepped closer to look Terra over, reaching out to adjust his hair and wipe away a bit of makeup where it was smudged. The picture was still accurate enough, and it would only have to last for their trip there and back.

During the meeting itself. . . well, Isa wanted it known the wounds were fake.

"You're alright," He assured, and there was more behind the words than he let on. "I promise, this is going to be alright. And it's the last thing I'll have you do today. You have my word."

The prince didn't don his full regality, again -- it wasn't needed. He wasn't trying to intimidate anyone.

So, without another word, resolve steeled and determined, he led Terra once again out of his room and down the hallway to the parlor where he'd asked Yen Sid to meet with him. Where he was, likely, already waiting.

At this point, Terra longed for any sort of comfort. Something reassuring and grounding. Something that made this all a little more bearable. Normally, whenever he needed comfort, he'd find himself held by his family, either by one of them or the whole group in a sort of pile. It had always worked. As well as speaking about what was wrong. Those always helped. Those always made things easier.

Here he had neither. While he had spoken some about his inner turmoil, he had hardly discussed all of it, and even what he had spoken of was festering in his gut like a disease. He had no physical comforts here either. No comfortable clothing. No familiar items to hold. No family to touch him. The prince's touches felt hollow. For good reason. There was nothing that truly bound them except for the prince's pity. It was obvious.

But he had no time to wallow in his sadness. Not at the moment at least. He had to accompany the prince to somewhere else. Endure those stares. Ignore the whispers. Yet still be on guard. He was meant to be the prince's guard, not some wilting flower that followed him.

So he simply followed with nothing but a nod in response to Isa's words. He didn't have the energy for much more anyways. At least the walk hadn't been far, and many seemed more interested in other things than him. Though, he did notice a few hushed whispers mixed with glances his way. He could only imagine that it was gossip about his stunt that morning...

As they entered the room, Yen Sid was indeed already waiting. He'd come the moment he'd been told. His natural assumption, of course, had been to discuss the rest of the plans the commanders of the army had made. There were even a few small maps and notes laid out on the table. He stood when the prince entered, but his eyes immediately flashed to Terra, a quiet sort of sorrow obvious in his eyes.

The moment Terra saw Yen Sid, he looked at the ground, resisted the urge to cross his arms in an attempt to hide. This had to be some sort of joke. Yen Sid was the last person he wanted to see. Certainly not like this. How could this meeting possibly be less intense than the last? Yes, he wasn't under threat of death, but here he had to face someone that cared for him... while looking like a slave that had just been harshly punished

"You called for me, your Highness?" Yen Sid asked calmly, looking back at the prince.

"Indeed, I did." Affect carefully constructed and in place, slid easily into place like a well-worn glove. Demeanor entirely unreadable -- just as the prince liked things. Just as he had to keep things.

Even in this situation, he couldn't be too forward. Besides, anything he said to Yen Sid himself could be taken as some sort of manipulation of Terra, or a lie. It also wasn't his place to begin with.

Speaking briskly, he moved towards the table, starting with some carefully canned response about wanting to know the details of the earlier meeting. Part of him did, in fact, and he eagerly started looking over Yen Sid's notes, noting with relief that no one was being used as bait.

In the middle of his tirade, he stopped, schooling his features into an expression of confusion. "Forgive me, Admiral," He said politely, appearing to remember something important. "I've forgotten something incredibly urgent that I must take care of. I'll return momentarily -- please, do me the honor of watching my servant in my absence." Knowing that Yen Sid would agree -- Yen Sid had no choice but to agree -- he turned to start heading towards the door.

For a fraction of a second, he paused, right at Terra's side, and whispered into his ear. "Talk to him. No performance necessary."

And then -- he was gone.

Terra had turned his head ever so slightly to listen to what the prince had to say. Immediately, he froze in shock. There was simply no other state he could be in. The prince was leaving... so that he could speak in private to Yen Sid. Why would the prince do that? Wouldn't that cause trouble? Could he even face Yen Sid?

It seemed that he was facing Yen Sid whether he felt ready or not. Which he certainly did not. Where did he even begin? An apology? An explanation? Breaking down? In all ways acting like the scared child he felt like? He couldn't even think of what to say or do for any of those options. How could he explain everything in a way that made since and Yen Sid would believe? It was a miracle that Aqua had believed. He wasn't sure he could do that again.

All those emotions began to rise within him again. He couldn't speak now even if he knew what to say without breaking down into sobs. He couldn't do that. He refused to do that. Even if the prince had given him permission to act freely here... he was ashamed to fall apart completely in front of someone that might even hate him now. He didn't want to know if he was hated or not either.

But it was hard to keep from feeling overwhelmed with the desire to have Yen Sid on his side. To have someone that understood that he could talk to for even a moment. There was far too much happening. Too many complicated plans and thoughts. He longed to talk to another about it. To figure it out better in his mind. For someone else to advise and support him. But he didn't have Eraqus anymore, and Yen Sid might hate him for that very fact.

It was obvious that Yen Sid himself didn't know what to do either. His expression was a bit startled at the prince's sudden departure. He couldn't object to his new task of "watching" the prince's servant, even if he'd wanted to. But he didn't want to. Surely.. anything said in this room would go unknown to others. This had been meant to be a private meeting being himself and the prince after all.

Slowly and clearly watchful for any movement at the door, he turned to Terra and took a step closer. He took in every detail that had changed over the short time that had passed. And there was already so much. Bruises. Cuts. The clothes. But most noticeably... a wilting spirit, seen in Terra's eyes. Not a spirit that had been suddenly and harshly broken, but one that was slowly being chipped away with each second that passed. It was likely that Terra didn't even notice, since it was something so slow and Terra was so stubborn.

Yen Sid reached a hand to Terra's face, gently cupping it to move Terra's head up to face him. He was careful not to touch any of the places that looked injured. The last thing he wanted to do was cause Terra more pain.

There was a moment of silence between them. In which Yen Sid simply looked at Terra, and Terra felt his determination to remain impassive break. Eyes of old, tired sorrow staring into eyes of slowly fading will.

Quietly and ever so sincere, Yen Sid whispered, "What has happened to you?"

Just one question was all it took to completely crush Terra's resolve. As soon as the words fell from Yen Sid’s mouth, he felt the emotions surge within him and immediately begin to fall from his eyes. For a moment, it didn’t matter if Yen Sid hated him. He just needed one moment of someone showing such gentle care. Even if it was from someone that may come to hate him or already hated him. He needed more than the cold loneliness that came without contact from other people.

“Oh.. my boy,” Yen Sid said softly while pulling Terra gently into a hug. Yen Sid was one of the few people that could truly envelop Terra in a hug, and Terra clung to the feeling.

“I-I didn’t… I didn’t do it, Yen Sid. I swear to you I didn’t. I.. Someone else was there, but I didn’t see who. I would have never. You have to believe me,” Terra began pleading. It didn’t quite fully make sense, but he felt that Yen Sid would understand. He had to understand. How else would Yen Sid know the truth? He wasn’t a murderer. He would have never harmed Eraqus. Not in a million years. Even if it meant his own life.

Yen Sid didn’t respond right away, but he did start slowly stroking Terra’s hair to help calm him. He very much saw Terra as a child, which, compared to him, Terra still was. Though he knew that that wasn’t the case. By this time, Terra should have been in the running to train others, to lead. But, instead, Terra had been taken and accused of something so heinous that even if it was a false accusation, no one would ever trust him as a soldier again.

And it was almost certainly a false accusation. Yen Sid had known Terra since the younger was barely three. He knew Terra as a young man with integrity, loyalty, and a fierce love for his father. There were very few reasons that he could possibly fathom Terra would ever think some sort of harm on Eraqus, much less act on it. He’d known in his heart the whole time that Terra was innocent. That didn’t completely remove sorrow, but at least it was a small comfort.

“I know, Terra,” Yen Sid said gently, “I know you better than to believe you had. I do not know how or why you were given the blame, but that does not matter to me. All that matters is what happened after. I was not present, but I have heard that the prince… claimed you.”

Yen Sid looked incredibly sorrowful as he spoke. For good reason as well. Had it been any other situation, Terra’s new position would be debatably worse than even a shameful death. None would envy it. Not even those that wanted a finer lifestyle would want it at the price of their freewill. That was more precious than anything.

Immediately, Terra knew where Yen Sid’s thoughts went. It was, of course, the natural assumption knowing the court as it was now. And Yen Sid had known and been a part of it for years, decades even. There was no way Yen Sid wouldn’t assume the worst. Especially with the show Terra had committed to showing. But now he didn’t have to. He needed at least one person to know that he was okay.

“It’s not like that,” Terra said quickly, pulling away enough to look into Yen Sid’s face, “he hasn’t done anything to me. What you saw in the meeting room today… was the first time he’d actually hit me, and he immediately tried to apologize. He hasn’t hit me since either. I promise.”

The look on Yen Sid’s face was one of skepticism and concern. Surely… Terra was aware of the obvious, painful marks forming every place Yen Sid could see. Which didn’t account for any damage hidden behind the clothing. Why was Terra trying to defend the prince? Had the prince already convinced Terra of such delusions..? A week seemed too short a time, but it must have happened.

“Terra..” Yen Sid said gently, “you know that’s not the truth. I wish I could protect you from it, but it gives neither of benefit for you to lie about it. Please, you can tell me what has happened.”

Then Terra remembered the excessive amount of makeup currently on his skin and exact how it was meant to appear. How to prove it? There was the obvious way, but he couldn’t make it too obvious lest someone notice in the halls on his way back. It took a moment for an idea to come to mind. Something subtly yet would be obvious to Yen Sid.

“I’m telling the truth, Yen Sid, I swear,” he said while letting go with one hand to reach towards his own face, “this is all an act, a facade. Nothing is truly happening. We just… need to appear that it is. That’s why he slapped me earlier as well. It wasn’t even that hard. I’ll show you.”

He quickly rubbed away the bit of makeup that had been meant to represent a bruise on his cheek. It took a moment, but it faded enough to make it obvious. There was no injury there. Yen Sid stared in disbelief for a moment, barely even blinking.

“It’s only makeup. There would be trouble if it looked like I wasn’t being treated like I’m expected to be. So we have to act like I am whenever I leave the room,” Terra explained, showing the makeup that had rubbed off now on his hand.

“What… How…” Yen Sid took a moment to fully understand what he was being shown. It became very obvious very quickly. Terra… wasn’t truly hurt. He wasn’t in a safe position by any means, but at least he was being mostly treated like a human being. Yen Sid gently touched the spot where Terra had removed the makeup, checking for any sign of pain. He found none.

“Oh, Terra… I thought such cruel things were happening to you..” Yen Sid said quietly, “I am so glad… that you are at least mostly safe. I feared I would never see you again, and if I ever did, you would be broken in spirit until you were unrecognizable.”

Unable to contain himself, Yen Sid pulled Terra into a tight hug, hand ending up on Terra’s upper back. It took him a moment to notice something… oddly shaped in Terra’s clothes. After taking a moment to truly hug the young man, he made a grab for whatever Terra was hiding and pulled it out successfully. A small dagger. Clearly one that had been in a harness strapped to Terra’s person.

“Terra… What is this?” he asked, looking nervously at the knife before looking at Terra, “why do you have this?”

Terra almost immediately panicked. How had Yen Sid discovered that so quickly? He put his hands up defensively while quickly trying to remember how words worked to give an explanation. The dagger. Guarding. He was meant to act as the prince’s guard. That’s why he even left the room in the first place.

“The prince gave it to me,” was the first thing out of Terra’s mouth, which earned a confused look from Yen Sid, “it’s so that I can protect the prince. Like a bodyguard none would expect.”

The explanation wasn’t thorough, but it was hopefully enough to start with. The last thing Terra needed was for Yen Sid to think he was planning a royal assassination.

“Why would the prince need you when he has many other guards at his disposal?” Yen Sid asked carefully. Terra supposed he was right to be skeptical. That wasn’t exactly a common thing someone in his position would be carrying around. He wanted to be open and honest, but there was only one way for Terra to convince Yen Sid… and it was something the prince may not like him sharing. But he trusted Yen Sid.

“You.. mustn’t tell anyone, but last night… an assassin came for the prince. The prince was asleep, and so was I. The assassin was using wire to prevent the prince from calling for help. I woke up and saw what was happening,” Terra said quietly, as not to be overheard by anyone outside the door, “I was just barely in time to prevent the prince’s death. Since then… the prince wanted me to act as his guard. It wouldn’t be suspicious or worrisome for me to accompany the prince everywhere he went, like a unit of guards would be. That’s why he gave me the knife, so that I could be armed to defend the prince should something like that ever happen again.”

Yen Sid listened with rapt attention, looking rightly horrified at the news. Yet, he looked just the slightest bit pleased to hear how Terra had acted. Carefully, he held the knife back to Terra, handle first.

“With you there, I’m sure it will not,” Yen Sid said with a small smile, “just make sure no one else finds this on you. It would not end well.”

Terra smiled a small amount back. A smile with genuine emotion behind it. Not one that had been seen in a week. “I’ll be careful,” he ensured while securing the blade in its proper place.

“Thank you, Yen Sid, for believing me,” Terra said quietly after a brief moment of silence.

“I will always believe you, Terra. I know you as well I knew your father. You two are very much alike. I am just thankful that you are okay. No matter what, please stay strong. Do not allow this hard time to break your spirit. That is all I ask,” Yen Sid said gently while meeting Terra’s eyes.

Unable to trust himself not to cry again, Terra simply nodded. That was all he could do.

The handmaiden had long since learned not to ask questions. Then again, it had also been an extremely long time since she'd needed to. Sure, the prince didn't behave in any way that was typical of a noble, but the years that Xion had spent in service to him had allowed her to figure him out. Or, at least, figured him out enough. While they couldn't exactly be called "friends" to the nature of their statuses, there was a strong possibility that the prince's handmaiden knew him better than anyone else in the kingdom.

Their agreement was nonverbal, and mutual in nature. Isa cared for chores himself that would otherwise have been Xion's responsibility, as he liked for things to be, and in return Xion kept her mouth shut. She got what Isa wanted, no questions asked, and trusted him to do whatever he deemed necessary. The prince was a good man, in her opinion, and Xion would have had to be entirely ignorant not to have noticed what the prince was doing behind closed doors, and underneath the king's nose, for years. But she kept her mouth shut.

Just as she'd kept her mouth shut about the cot she'd brought to the prince's bedroom. And the chain. Even if whatever was going on with the prince's new servant was. . . scary, she had to trust that he knew what he was doing. She had to.

She wouldn't question.

She didn't question it now, either, when the prince pulled her gently aside in the hall and requested a whole manner of odd items. She just nodded -- briskly -- and went on her way.

The prince himself was in deep, complex thought, and every item he'd asked the girl for was carefully chosen.

It had occurred to him, as he'd arranged the meeting with Yen Sid, that the man had been in mourning clothes. Isa himself had briefly attended Eraqus' funeral to pay his respects yet, somehow, he'd only briefly recognized the fact that Terra had never gotten the chance to attend, nor mourn. Of course, that had been when he wasn't yet convinced of Terra's innocence. . . so he'd never thought to rectify the situation.

Now, it was all he could think of.

Isa knew, all too well, what it felt like not to have the chance to mourn someone you loved. Of course, he hadn't even had a funeral. . .

The prince had forced those thoughts away, certain they'd only push him into a dark, toxic place, and had gotten to work. A prominent shelf in his chambers was promptly cleared off, and the items he'd asked Xion to bring gratefully accepted before the maid was dismissed.

Candles. Incense. Several flowers and assorted nettles, both dried and fresh. Prayer beads, and a ceremonial cloth. All arranged perfectly, with a careful attention to detail and reverence by the prince's own hands.

And in the center, a small portrait. It had been on display at Eraqus' funeral, and was slightly larger than a thick book. Only a bust shot, but it was likely the best that Isa could acquire without arousing suspicion.

Finally, the altar was complete, and it was time to return to the parlor and collect Terra. Hopefully, his discussion with Yen Sid had proved fruitful. Just in case, the prince walked back slowly, and politely knocked on the door before entering and nudging it closed behind him.

"Forgive me," He said again as he entered, glancing briefly between the other two men. He didn't say anything else, uncertain what Terra had already revealed, but neither did he make an attempt to actively uphold his performance by forcing Terra into a subservient position. Hopefully, that wouldn't come back to bite him.

The moment Terra had heard a knock on the door, he tried to pull himself together some. He rubbed away the tears from his eyes and made sure his dagger was secure and hidden in its pouch. It was most likely Isa, but he had to be careful anyways. He'd made enough missteps today. He didn't want to add one more by being seen weeping to an admiral without his owner. That would cause all sorts of chaos.

He was silent as the prince first walked in, waiting for any others and the door closing. Once it did, he visibly relaxed. It was Isa, only Isa. Not any other lord or commander for him to speak to. Just Isa. He doubted he could handle another conversation at this point anyways. His emotions were completely spent for the day, as were his words.

There was another thing in Terra's expression that was different from when he entered the room. He did look a little less tired, even if he still felt it. He looked as though a bit of the weight on his shoulders had been taken off. Weight was still there, of course, but it was less than before. It shone in his eyes, ever so slightly, as a bit of flickering flame behind his brown iris.

Yen Sid stepped slightly forward, resuming his more quietly dignified demeanor. But it was obvious on him as well. He was relieved. His eyes were a little less sorrowful than before. There was still mourning in his eyes, yes, but there was no longer the addition of the mourning for a lost child. In its place, there was a small gaze of appreciation and pride.

"Was that... all you required of me, your Highness?" he asked, bowing after he spoke, "I can send you letters to your chambers with any additional information, if you wish."

The newfound fire and heart in Terra's eyes wasn't lost to Isa -- what was lost to him was why it felt so incredibly good to see. It had been that same light that had caused Isa to save Terra in the first place, and he'd been terrified he'd only condemned the other man's passion to a much longer, slower demise.

Anything he could do to keep it alive. . . he would.

As Yen Sid bowed, so did Isa as well. Which was quite the unusual gesture, in fact -- the prince rarely bowed before anyone who wasn't the king. When he looked up, there was something soft, perhaps even hopeful in his expression. The slightest crack in his carefully crafted and rock solid façade.

Though his circumstances forced him to act callous, Isa wanted very much to be a good king. A good person. He couldn't stand the thought of one of the kingdom's few respectable officials thinking him an abusive monster who'd taken someone he cared for.

Perhaps the motives were selfish. Of course, he also couldn't stand for Terra being detested by someone he cared for. All around -- this had needed to happen. Whatever Terra had chosen to share, he would simply have to trust.

He'd been doing quite a lot of that, lately.

"Yes, thank you," Isa replied -- polite, lacking the usual hardness to his tone. "I would very much appreciate the letters, at your earliest convenience. Thank you for taking time to meet with me."

"No need to thank me, your Highness," Yen Sid said as he straightened, looking at the prince with an oddly peaceful and grateful expression, "it is my honor to serve a prince such as you. Consider me ever at your call."

With that, he bowed once more and left. Perhaps he had been subtle in showing it, but he found himself respecting the prince more than he thought he would. Many things about the court as he knew it he found despicable. It was impossible to have confidence in any noble in regards to human decency. But it was clear that the prince was different. Very different.

Admittedly, he'd been deeply troubled and had nearly come to hate the prince for what had happened. He'd feared the worst for Terra's health. But it was clear to him now that the prince had no intention of harming Terra. In fact, it was as if the prince was going out of his way not to harm Terra. The makeup. The show. Even arming Terra so that Terra could protect both of them.

Everything about this situation could get the prince opposition on both ends of the spectrum, but the prince was still choosing this path. Those that were more honorable in the court would be appalled that the prince had claimed Terra. Others would be angered if it was ever discovered that all this was staged. It was a dangerous path that the prince was willing to choose to protect Terra as well as his conscience.

Yes, the prince would grow into a king that Yen Sid could follow. That, he knew for certain now.

Once Yen Sid left, Terra looked at Isa with the most grateful expression he could make without crying. He felt like he'd cried enough today. Plus, crying again here would make it harder to stop for when they needed to traverse the hallway. So it was better to keep it under control for now. Though, he felt better after talking with Yen Sid, so the need to cry wasn't as strong.

"Isa... why...." he started to ask before shaking his head, "thank you." He stared at Isa sincerely, hoping Isa understood.

The look Isa received from Yen Sid had affected him far more than it should. Even in its subtlety, it was comforting -- that someone worth his respect was able to return it. That he was honored to serve him, and Isa believed he actually meant it. Hopefully, for who Isa was, rather than blind loyalty to the crown.

Then Yen Sid was gone -- and Terra was looking at him with an expression that was somehow worse. Worse, at least, in that Isa didn't know how to process it -- nor did he believe it to be deserved. All he'd done was allow Terra the faintest aspects of humanity that he'd been denied. That should have been an entitlement -- not something he should have had to express gratitude for.

"No thanks necessary," He replied, holding Terra's eyes for a moment before turning to leave. "I trust you found the meeting beneficial? We may return to my chambers whenever you're ready to depart. There will be no more meetings today."

This was still all incredibly horrid. One meeting and a few flowers wouldn't make it right. It was likely that things wouldn't be all right for a long time -- but that wouldn't stop him from trying.

The moment the prince turned to leave the room, Terra stepped up behind him. He was mostly composed now. Unlikely to burst into tears at a moment's notice and the like. Much more capable to truly act as a guard than he had been before. He also felt a bit lighter. Not quite happy or content, but certainly less stressed and sorrowful than before.

"Yes, I did. It... helped a lot. Truly," he said quietly, "though, I think it might have been more comforting for him than for me. He had been scared... so I showed him that he didn't need to be."

He wasn't sure how much the prince cared to hear.. Then again, it was the sort of thing the prince needed to know, right? How much information had been given out and where. That was important to know when one was keeping secrets. That's how you prevent certain ones from knowing that you don't want involved.

"I'm ready to go. I'm pretty done with meetings today anyways," he said while looking at Isa.

There was a moment of silence in which Isa's hand stilled on the ornate door handle. Of course Yen Sid would have been afraid, seeing the performance that Isa and Terra were conducting. It would have been impossible not to be, for someone with any bit of compassion.

After a moment, Isa looked over his shoulder at the servant, and something quite incredible happened. He smiled. It was only a faint thing, and meant to be reassuring more than anything else -- but it came from a place of genuine happiness that Isa hadn't managed to completely kill Terra's spirit.

A bit of hope that maybe -- just maybe -- everything would be alright.

"I'm glad. Forgive me for not warning you, but I wasn't certain you'd accept. Next time, please don't hesitate to ask me to schedule an audience with whoever you need to speak to," He said.

With that, the smile faded, and he turned back around before slipping into his familiar mask of regality and leading the way back down the hallway.

Of all the things Terra had come to expect in the past week with Isa, a small, gentle smile was not one of them. The prince, as he knew him, was more stoic and controlled his emotions. Most likely for appearance sake, but the prince maintained the demeanor in private as well. So that meant Isa was genuinely smiling... for him? Or maybe the prince was truly relieved and that had brought on the smile.

He'd been too shocked to properly react before the prince had turned away. Especially with the prince's offer. The prince had no reason or obligation to do any of this. . . yet, he had. It was hard not to feel touched. Then again, maybe he ought not resist the feeling. Even if it was a low bar, the prince was treating him far better than any would expect him to. And Terra was grateful for that.

He followed Isa quietly, actually managing to focus on guarding and not at the stares and whispers around him. Somehow, after speaking to Yen Sid, he felt stronger. Perhaps it was because he knew Yen Sid was both on his side and knew that he was okay. Maybe it was because the prince had gone out of his way to do this for him. Regardless, he felt more at peace than he had all week.

Soon, they were back in the room. He was tempted to go back to the window and stare out it in a far more pleasant way than he had been before. Maybe he ought to ask for permission to open it as well. It looked like a nice day outside. But then he noticed something. A scent. Something that smelled old but in a pleasant way.

Looking around for the source, he noticed something different on the bookshelf. Slowly, he approached it to investigate the chance. The smell was coming from incense and candles. There were several things set up on the shelf. Flowers, nettles, beads. What was all this?

Then his eyes locked onto the object in the center.

Suddenly, he knew exactly what all this was. What it meant. And fresh, entirely different tears began to well up in his eyes. It was an altar. For Eraqus. Meant for mourning and remembrance. Is this what Isa had left to do? To put this together for him

Silently, he moved a few things ever so slightly. His fingers brushed over the painting while he covered his mouth gently to keep from falling into sobs. This was... the best possible thing Isa could have given him. He'd felt so wretched... unable to properly mourn Eraqus. But now he could. It was all here.

He looked at Isa, unspeakable gratitude written across his face. He had no idea how to express it, but he felt it so strongly that he felt he had to find some way. Somehow. Maybe not today, but one day.

As they'd entered the room, Isa knew it was only a matter of time until Terra noticed the makeshift altar. The prince wasn't going to go out of his way to draw attention to it; after all, he hadn't made the thing to receive thanks. He'd simply done it because it was what needed to be done.

He'd resumed his interrupted settling in process as they were once again in solitude, not glancing in Terra's direction. He'd already been far more open than he ordinarily would have, or even considered remotely appropriate. Anything else might just push him over the edge.

But, try as he might to be impassive, he could feel Terra's eyes on him and -- eventually -- he looked. As soon as he saw those watery eyes, some distant form of resolve broke. The prince was stern -- but he wasn't hard and inhuman.

Letting out a sigh, he abandoned his gloves on an end table and moved closer to where Terra was standing. Following an extremely brief sympathetic glance, he looked instead towards the portrait. "He was a good soldier. And a good man," Isa said simply. "I'm glad he's left behind a worthy legacy."

That was all he elaborated, though he hesitated for a moment before doing something else. Something almost equally unfamiliar. Slowly, so as not to startle -- himself or Terra, it was up for discussion -- he settled a hand on the other man's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before turning away.

Everything about this was unexpected. The carefully crafted alter. The sympathetic look. The meaningful words. The gentle touch. By this point, Terra had figured out that Isa was very different from most of the other nobles and high ranking officials here, but he'd never quite realized to what extent.

In all honesty, the bare minimum amount of decency had been reached. He wasn't being hurt. He wasn't being used. He only had to remain here, but even then, he was allowed to speak and act freely. The prince had just told him that he could request to speak to anyone he wanted, all he needed to do was ask. That was far more freedom than most others would ever even consider giving their personal servant. Not to mention arming him and building something that would be considered irrelevant to any other noble.

He had feared that he'd been condemned to the life that people spoke of in horror. That he would be trapped in a place where he would be hurt and trapped with no way to even hope to speak with family or friends ever again. Clearly, that was not the case. It was almost the opposite case. Yes, he still had to stay here, but he wasn't quite trapped. Only sort of repurposed with benefits.

Benefits and freedoms the prince didn't have to give him. In fact, if it was discovered that the prince had given them, then it would be bad news for both of them. The prince certainly knew that. Yet the prince did it anyways. And Terra was so infinitely grateful, but one thing kept pressing from the back of his mind....

Why?

He decided now wasn't the time for such a question. He looked at the prince, having half a mind to do something drastic. He decided against it. He doubted the prince would be comfortable with being suddenly touched. But he did smile softly towards the prince, unable to help it.

"Thank you," he said quietly, "all I can hope for is that I end up a good legacy. I would hate his memory to be tarnished by my actions..."

If Terra had decided to act on his impulse, it was unlikely that Isa would have resisted. The day's activity had him feeling so drained, and unfamiliar even to himself for the actions he'd chosen to take. He'd risked so much . . . nearly lost so much, in such a short time . . . he'd never done this much, before.

After acting so meticulously, so careful, all day, Isa was now completely mentally drained. At the very least, he was determined not to speak with any court members for a while. His constant performance was exhausting, more so now that he'd had to keep such a thing up in private or while walking through the halls. For Terra's sake.

Though . . . perhaps he could let it fall, now. Even if just a little.

He'd been silent as he moved towards his desk, taking a seat and running a hand through his hair. But he couldn't exactly leave Terra with no response. . . not when one was burning so strongly on his tongue.

"I'll see to it that you will," He said in a quiet, resolute voice. "You have my word. This is a black mark on your story . . . and a moment of humiliation. And I'm sorry for that. But I promise you I won't let your life end in disgrace. The day will come when you have the honor you deserve, and you'll make Eraqus' memory proud."

Terra had expected silence. He certainly didn't know what response would make sense or even be deserved. Even if it was under false pretenses... he had still been accused of a crime, the worst crime, and then was made into a bedslave. All would see it as shameful, minus the few that knew the truth. It would be seen as a stain on Eraqus's legacy, if not shatter it completely.

It was likely that people had begun to whisper. What kind of man had Eraqus truly been to raise a son that killed him? That would be the natural question. How did you even raise a son so that he ended up killing you? Rumors about Eraqus's character would rise soon enough. Gossip of nobles with nothing better to do with their time and servants that long for excitement from scandal.

He hated it, but this was what was likely to happen. All because of him...

But then the prince's true response registered in his mind. See to it that he'll... Won't let his life end... The honor he.... Make Eraqus... All of those things seemed simply impossible. How could he ever do any of that? He was in no position to achieve any of that.

Unless... What was the prince planning? Why was he suddenly a part of the grand plan Isa seemed to have? What even was that plan? Was he simply an ambitious prince, or was there more to it? Why did he care to know? And, most importantly...

Why had the prince even saved him in the first place?

There was no way bringing a stranger in was part of the prince's plan. That had already been shown through the mess nearly made today. The prince worked alone. Very alone. Trusting no one and expecting no trust. Yet the prince had seemed to be trusting him... with his life, no less.

But why?

He turned back to the altar. The questions still plagued him, but he would ask them another time. Maybe when it was more quiet. Till then... he had proper respects to pay.

"I hope so," was all he said in response to the prince's words. He didn't have anything else to offer.

The prince didn't need any other response. He hadn't been trying to prompt one.

Without another word, the pair turned to their respective, quiet duties -- the prince to his kingdom. The servant to his late father.


	11. Chapter 11

That's how they spent several nights, following the ordeal that had been that long first day of their public performance. Fortunately, things passed a good deal smoother, and it seemed like Terra's presence at Isa's side was becoming commonplace. There were the looks, of course -- the occasional jeer, but nothing like the outburst of the initial meeting. That was a blessed relief to both parties involved. 

The performance wasn't easy . . . not for either of them, but they managed. For some reason, Isa found his newfound trust in his servant comforting -- he'd even started sleeping easier at night, waking in fewer panics. No other assassination had yet been attempted, though Isa wasn't near foolish enough to believe it wouldn't be. It was only a matter of time. 

As fate would have it, right when things were starting to settle down completely, something out there in the universe decided that the prince was having too easy of a time of things. One morning, he'd almost had the nerve to feel pleasant when he was handed a letter. 

Damn that letter. 

Immediately upon reading it, Isa let out a low, barely detectable groan, and sat back onto his bed while carding a hand through the top of his hair. "Well, this is just brilliant," He muttered with a frown, not yet glancing in his servant's direction. "I'd forgotten it was Naminé's birthday. I've already told her I would attend the party. . . damn it. . . " 

He'd been pressured into accepting the invitation by his father when the duchess was visiting their own kingdom. Naminé herself was from one just adjacent, allied to Isa's own. Isa didn't have to think very hard about why the king had been so insistent. . . but as much as he wanted to refuse, he couldn't very well do so now.

It had been a long first day, but the following days had been easier. No matter what happened, Terra had learned that he needed to remain outwardly unaffected... then more subtly inform the prince of anything he noticed or felt was important to say. It was gradually getting easier to play the part. He'd never been much of an actor, but it seemed that he was learning how to be one anyways.

It had almost become a routine of sorts. Wake up, eat breakfast, makeup, possibly a meeting, complain at lunch over the absurdities of some people, usually a peaceful evening, and a quiet dinner before bed. It was becoming more normal. Not the ideal, obviously, but it didn't feel like being trapped nor being moments away from being sent to his death. So it was easy to relax... just a little.

Perhaps that's why the routine was getting a sudden change.

Terra had still been laying in bed, partially asleep when the prince had received the letter and returned. The feeling of the prince sitting back on the bed roused him enough for him to shift into an upright position, but his eyes remained half closed.

"Naminé..?" he asked, a bit blurrily, "a birthday party? I didn't know royals had those. You already have what you want, why have one day for gifts and parties?"

He was, of course, still very much dazed from just waking, but he was gradually snapping out of it. He just needed another moment.

Terra's sleepy voice made its way dimly through Isa's mild frustration, and he glanced briefly over his shoulder at him with a quiet snort. Dazed with sleep or not, Terra had no idea how accurate he was. 

"Any excuse for a grand party tends to be taken full advantage of," He explained, not at all sounding happy about it. "And it's never enough. Never enough presents, or festivities, or regalia. Aristocracy always push for  _ more, more, more, _ gorging themselves like ticks. If only they grew to the point that they'd explode." 

He'd . . . lost his temper a bit, perhaps. It wasn't that Isa had a problem with Naminé -- the girl herself was kind and gentle, if a bit soft. But her family, and the majority of her court, was nearly as bad as Isa's own. Considering how well their fathers got along, and how they longed to strengthen the alliance between their kingdoms, it was no wonder what they were trying to do. Nevermind, apparently, that Naminé was much younger than Isa. A near child. He wouldn't go near the girl in a million years. 

"It's sure to be opulent. . . " He continued with a sigh, rubbing his eyes wearily for a moment. "I'd forgotten I'd agreed to go already. It's far too late to back out. . . we have no choice but to attend the party, in all of its entirely unnecessary glory."

Even as Terra slowly gained full consciousness, he noticed the prince's tense tone. He rubbed his eyes enough to look more clearly at the prince. It was obvious that the prince was already weary, and they haven't even gone to this place yet. He knew how tiresome nobles grew to be, he's had to deal with them plenty already. He could see how a party would be even worse.

He stretched a bit and shifted closer to the prince to look at the letter. Everything about it looked overly fancy. Fancy writing that was almost unreadable. Colored ink which only make it harder to read. Scented quite strongly. Even the paper had a unique texture to it. This was certainly sent by someone that had far too much money.. and liked to show it.

"If it's really that bad, can't you say you're sick, or something?" he asked while settling in his new seat closer to Isa, "surely they wouldn't expect you to attend if you had some terrible illness. And no one could prove that you did that."

Then again, lying wasn't the best thing to do. Maybe they ought to just go and figure something out. But.. would he go to? He had no idea how this all worked. He'd assume that he'd be able to go, but there was no way to know for certain unless the prince told him so one way or another.

"At the first least, they won't expect you to be there all the time if you did go, right?" he asked, "and... would I go with you? I wouldn't imagine fancy nobles would want me at their expensive party."

The suggestion was tempting. If only Isa could pretend to be ill without causing further disruptions. The illness of a prince wasn't the sort of thing that would be taken lightly and left in quiet for him to recover. . . No, he'd have to honor his commitments and responsibilities, no matter how much he longed to search for an out. 

"There's a possibility I'll be able to slip away . . . though I doubt it. I'll be quite the honored guest," He grimaced, not appearing to find the idea appealing. There was comfort in the fact that he wouldn't be going alone for some reason. Perhaps there shouldn't have been, but Terra knew things about him and his perspectives on society that very few others did. Knowing he wasn't alone in his view of things while at the party would be of some comfort. 

"And I'd say yes, you will go with me," the prince continued a moment later, finally rising to his feet and tossing the far too fancy invitation onto his end table. "After all, it's entirely possible that my carriage could be stopped and invaded by someone who tries to cut my throat. Or I could find a knife between my ribs during a dance." The words were spoken matter-of-factly, impassive, and didn't include the ones he was truly thinking. 

_ Besides, I far prefer your company to the majority of others that will be in attendance.  _

"At least my father's far too busy to attend . . . " That was one small consolation. If it hadn't been the case, Isa wasn't sure he would have survived the event without suffering some sort of mental break. The assassins would have been able to rest.

Looks like the decision had been made. They were going to go to some fancy noble birthday party for who knows how long. Did nobles have those week long birthday celebrations like Terra had heard about in silly tales? He hoped not. He didn't want an entire week in an unknown place surrounded by unknown people when his position was so... delicate. He'd gotten enough stares to know that people would... not treat him well if given an opportunity.

Though, the prince had a good reason to want him to tag along. If someone knew the prince was travelling and attending a party, it would be fairly easy to get an assassin to attack him while outside castle walls. There would be fewer guards, or the guards would be spread thinner to protect other guests as well. It made sense that the prince would want the extra security. Plus, it probably would be best if he wasn't left alone at the castle..

It was a little comforting that the king wouldn't be attending. At least they wouldn't have to worry about his approval or anything of the sort while there. As long as they didn't do anything major or worthy of reporting to the king, they were in the clear.

He got out of bed and went to his trunk, planning to get dressed for the day. When a thought occurred to him.

"When are we leaving?" he asked, looking at Isa, "and... will I need more formal wear, or does that not matter for me?"

That was honestly an excellent question. For as confident and self-assured as the prince behaved, he didn't have much of an idea what he was doing, and was in fact figuring it all out as he went along. 

Intending to start getting dressed, himself, Isa paused at his own wardrobe to think. ". . . Yes, you'll need something more formal," He said slowly as the gears turned in his mind, working him through the situation. "There will likely be other personal servants in attendance, but considering it's a more formal affair, and a birthday party for a young  _ girl  _ you won't be required to show as much skin as usual. Still, you'll have to look . . . pretty." 

He grimaced at the thought, even as he moved to Terra's side and started rifling through the trunk himself. "Presented like a prized animal. . . I believe that's what they'll be expecting." He tossed a few garments from the trunk onto the end of the bed, then, before adding a few of his own less-worn clothing items. They were close enough in size that a few of them would fit, albeit not entirely comfortably. Fortunately, they were mostly accessories. 

He'd produced a pair of completely skintight red trousers and undershirt, then a pair of short, puffy pants and a patterned doublet. The set was far too friendly and adorned to be worn by anyone except royals with the absolute tackiest sense of fashion -- or their pets. Or perhaps the occasional doll. 

"There . . . change, and fix your hair. Make sure your face is cleaned." He said with an approving nod as he glanced the outfit over one final time. It was the perfect mix of far too much and complimentary to Terra's form . . . and spared him a bit of modesty, at least.

Terra looked at the clothing with concern and the slightest amount of horror. Perhaps he didn't have the highest sense of fashion, but these looked...  _ unnecessarily  _ extravagant. He supposed the puffy upper sleeves of the golden brown doublet were ok. It shouldn't get in the way of any action he may need to take. Or, at least, he hoped not. There was a reason a soldier's uniform was typically simple in terms of style.

"Should I wear this when we travel? Or is there not going to be any time between arriving and the party?" he asked, really hoping he didn't have to wear these odd, fancy clothes for some long journey. How long were they travelling anyways? Most nobles had estates near their home cities to act as the governor of the town, but that could mean they could go anywhere in the kingdom.

He started to at least get ready in a general way. He went to the water basin and used his cloth to wash his face, neck, and arms. If he needed to look his best for this, it would probably be best to go the extra mile. Hopefully this wouldn't be too much work. At least they didn't have to worry about his make up, though, maybe they ought to bring it just in case. But it had been long enough that no one would find it suspicious if the damage had healed.

"How long do you expect this trip to be? Do we need to pack for days or will we already be back sometime tonight?" he asked. He was going to have to surrender to the new clothes eventually, but he was going to delay it as much as possible.

Though the prince was an impassive man, he briefly met Terra's eyes with an exasperated look that showed he knew  _ exactly  _ how ridiculous the outfit was. If he were in Terra's position, he'd have almost preferred wearing nothing at all. In fact. . . he rather  _ would _ . 

Fortunately, the prince's own regality was much more subtle. He never had been one for a good deal of pompous flash and fanfare. He favored a more understated sort of dramatism and elegance. . . a style that would likely clash quite horribly with his poor servant. But it was simply the way that things were. 

"Heavens above, I refuse to stay more than one day. Though it will likely last until the night. . . it depends on when the birthday girl herself is ready to retire. Fortunately, Naminé isn't one of the more extravagant nobles," Isa explained while picking out his own clothing. 

"As for our departure, we have a few hours to dress and depart. The adjourning kingdom is rather close, fortunately, though it'll be another few hour's ride. We should endeavor to leave as quickly as possible. . .though on this one occasion I can't dismiss the idea of being a bit fashionably late. And, yes --'' He grimaced, but nodded again at the gaudy outfit laid out on the bed. "Wear it in the carriage, it's far better than traveling with it. Besides, a noble's departure from their carriage is often a bit of a . . .  _ display _ . We'll have to look our best, and I doubt you want to strip and reclothe yourself while we're riding."

It was a relief to hear that it was just going to be a one day trip. No need to pack more of these clothes or find more horrendous clothing. Just one day in some odd regalia and then back to his regular clothes. Well, as regular as the more showy clothing had gotten to be. At least he was getting used to it.

Naminé.. Terra felt like he'd heard that name before. The adjourning kingdom... So they were going to the royal of another kingdom's party? Was this some sort of arrangement? He wouldn't assume it, but it wasn't out of the question. Regardless, it was a noble Isa seemed to be okay with. Someone like Isa, maybe?

He sighed and grabbed his attire for the day. The prince was certainly right.. it would be strange and unpleasant for him to attempt to change in the carriage. Especially since Isa would be in there as well. He tried not to think about that as he stepped behind the screen to change.

"Well, best I get ready for a show, then?" he said while trying to put on leggings that were fair to tight to be considered proper clothing. At least there would be an overlayer. "Anything we ought to bring with us? Like the makeup? I won't do anything I  _ shouldn't _ , but it wouldn't hurt to be prepared, would it?"

Hearts, he wished this could be simpler. But that wasn't his life anymore. No longer a soldier following strict schedules and commands. He was now part of an ever changing schedule with a plan he didn't know. All he could do was follow the lead Isa set for him. He could probably manage.

Isa himself was feeling very similar. For all the illusions of control he liked to maintain, he was very much a slave to society and convention, constantly attempting to balance his own ideals with what wouldn't get him in enough trouble to lose all power completely. It was complicated and persistent enough to give him an awful headache. . . but he managed. He'd managed for this long, and he'd continue to do so. 

That didn't mean he had to be happy about it. 

"Yes, you're right. I don't suppose it could," he answered with a sigh, then started what was an unfortunately lengthy process of dressing himself. "It's better to be prepared for any eventuality. Far better than me having to find a different manner in which to 'punish' you. You never know what people will take as an offense." 

It was correct -- if the wrong noble so much as said Terra  _ looked  _ at him the wrong way, there was a chance that Isa would have to take his side, at least partially. God, he hated this. . . Even being  _ perceived  _ as that kind of monster made him feel physically ill. 

"Fortunately, the kingdom to which we're going is slightly less corrupt than my own. Small comfort, I'm sure, but far better than if the party was within my own court." He couldn't  _ wait  _ to take power and finally purge it.

How did people wear clothing like this? Terra swore he was already overheating in these stuffy suit. It felt heavy too. Likely due to the extra fabric and embedded finery. It was ridiculous. He even looked ridiculous when he glanced in the mirror. Though, he supposed it was at least covering everything. Not something he'd gotten the luxury of as of late.

He stepped out and tried to make sure everything was on correctly. As far as he could tell it was. But he still needed to fix his hair. Was there a sort of formal style he should wear it in? He wasn't sure if he had long enough hair to do so.

"You also said it was a party for a young girl, right?" he asked while fluffing his hair a bit, "I'm sure few would want trouble to happen in front of her and risk upsetting her. The real problem will be if we're in private with someone else."

He wondered how this would all go. Hopefully it would be uneventful and boring. He didn't want any sort of excitement. It would be bad enough that he had to wear these clothes then likely act like a doll the entire time. He wasn't angry at Isa for this, but it still bothered him nonetheless.

The very words had Isa's stomach turning, and his hands stilled on his frilled undershirt as he fixed the buttons in place. "You have my word I'll do everything in my power to keep that from happening," He meant it with every fiber of his being. 

Aside from the implications for Terra's treatment, Isa didn't want to be left alone with such a royal at  _ all _ . Such a meeting wouldn't likely go well for him, either, and would be a precarious dance between revealing far too much or completely betraying his own values. It wasn't a dance he wished to perform. 

The prince was now dressed completely in all but his outermost layers, and turned to look Terra over as he exited the area behind the screen. 

Oh. 

That was. . unfortunate. 

But also . . . entirely, unfortunately, appropriate. 

"Come here," The prince said while waving Terra over to his vanity, feeling around for a moment before procuring a bottle of hair oil. "I apologize in advance for this. I have to have you looking  _ performance ready _ , after all." 

He grimaced as he spoke. This would never sit right with him. Nothing about it was right. One day, Isa swore, Terra would be more than a doll, and Isa more than an owner of one.

Perhaps it was odd, but Terra was gradually getting used to this. It was far different than any life he'd known before. Yet it wasn't so unfamiliar that he constantly felt lost or uncomfortable. Well, it was a little uncomfortable at times, but not in the way most would believe. It was uncomfortable clothing and tiresome acts. Nothing that would really cause shame.

He quietly sat down in front of Isa. This wasn't that bad. Not if he imagined it like he was an actor in a play. This was simply make-up for the part. A costume. The right lines. Stage directions. Never something he thought he'd participate in, but he was getting the hang off it. Though, he wished he could have discovered this skill under better circumstances.

"There's no need to apologize, Isa," he said while sitting up straight and still, "it's really not that bad. Plus, I guess I'm a bit excited. I've never been to a nice party like this. I was always told they were boring, but it seemed to me that it would at least be fun to  _ look  _ at everything."

"Then again.. I'm not sure what all I'll need to do. Will I have to dance with you? I don't know any formal dances. I'm guessing I'm more likely to simply be a wallflower, right?" he asked while looking at Isa through the reflection in the mirror.

Part of him wanted to dance. The only dancing he'd ever done had been simple things solely for fun or groups. But he'd always wanted to try formal dancing. He'd simply never gotten the chance. Then again, now might not be the best time to get the experience. Surely, if he did dance, he'd have to act emotionless and simply follow the movements. That wouldn't be any fun at all.

But standing by the wall and watching seemed boring. He didn't want to just do that for who knows how many hours. At least he'd been able to look at the fineries of another castle. That could be entertaining.. for a while.

Terra was seriously  _ excited _ ? Well, that made one of them. It truly seemed as if the servant was speaking genuinely, as well, which was rather surprising. Perhaps this party wouldn't be  _ completely  _ horrid . . . though Isa didn't begin to understand why it comforted him a bit to find that Terra would at least find the outing somehow fun. 

"I'll likely have to dance with the noblewomen, though I won't discount the possibility of being asked to  _ perform  _ with you," He replied while slicking his hands with the oil and starting to comb it through Terra's hair. "You likely will be primarily watching, in all honesty. Stay close to me so that you don't get trapped with someone and abused. I don't think it's likely, but . . . just in case." 

Working quickly, he styled Terra's hair back from his face, then pulled the makeup from his vanity. This time, he'd not paint the other to look abused, but rather a bit decorated. Not that Isa had much experience in doing such things. It was better to stay subtle.

It seemed strange to think in this context, but Terra liked the work done to his hair. It was relaxing and the slightest bit familiar. He'd gotten his hair messed with before. Eraqus so it would be out of the way for daily activities, and his siblings simply for the fun of it. He was the one that had ended up with the longest hair other than Eraqus.

So it was the smallest bit comforting, even if it came from new hands. He closed his eyes lightly, maybe just trying to remember the feeling that was so similar yet so different.

"Well, I won't do well for any sort of performance. I'm not very coordinated unless I'm sparring. I never understood why people call swordplay a dance. I can fight, but I certainly can't dance. I don't see them as related," he said.

In all honesty, he was trying to keep the mood light. There was no need for them both to be dreading the journey and party ahead of them. That would make it a bad day regardless of what actually happened. He didn't want that. He at least wanted a proper reason to be stressed or unhappy before having a bad day.

Optimism had the potential to be a very good philosophy. It was likely good that Terra had a pension for it, because Isa very much did not. He tended to have a sobering effect on situations, and likely couldn't have made the mood "lighter" if his life had depended on it. 

Terra's attempts to do so were, however, helping. It was easy to lose himself in the task of fixing the servant's hair and makeup, thinking only of that and his words rather than the long day ahead of them. 

"You've done excellent in our performance so far," He praised matter-of-factly. "I won't ask you to dance in front of others if you'll only fall over yourself. . . Though if you've learned to spar, I'm certain you're capable of it. You likely only need a proper teacher. Perhaps I'll show you at some point . . . though I can't see the point in most dancing. It's a bit frivolous."

Terra was glad that the prince seemed to be relaxing, even if it was just by a small amount. That had been part of his goal. This was going to be a long day, so there was no need to also make it a long morning. Best get on with it and figure out a way to entertain themselves in an extremely long carriage ride.

"I've always imagined that dancing can be fun. If it's the right kind, at least. I've never been to a formal event, so I'd assume the types of dancing are different from that of a festival in town," he said. 

He thought back to when he was younger. Celebrations occurred from time to time in the town nearby Eraqus's estate. They had often gone. Food, fire, dancing. It was frivolous, but in an exciting, fun way. He wondered if the prince had ever experienced the same?

"Ought we get going now?" he asked, looking up at Isa, "it's a long ride, right? Might as well get it over with. Unless there's something we need to do before leaving? Is this the sort of event you bring gifts for?"

Oh, how Isa wished he  _ could  _ have thought of something they needed to do before leaving. But, unfortunately, as soon as he finished fixing his own hair and secured a circlet around his head with a trailing netting of chain and jewels, it was time to depart. 

Brocade vest in silver and blue -- royal cloak -- gloves, outer robe, and royal crest born proudly on his chest. The prince himself wore no makeup. He didn't like it -- never had, and didn't particularly need it. His bearing and hair color was usually enough to make an impression, as well as his strong features, just a bit too severe to be considered classically attractive. 

He'd glanced himself over in the mirror and deemed it adequate, then nodded in response to Terra's question with a small sigh. "Yes. We'll depart. I've already asked for my handmaiden to fetch the gift I've chosen for the duchess, and she's to meet us with it at the carriage. Which is likely ready." 

He turned, taking a moment to strap his own knife to his belt, hidden beneath the layers of his cloak. His claymore would have been confiscated immediately, but hopefully this would escape detection. Even with Terra's protection, Isa refused to enter any situation unarmed. Not after what had nearly happened to him. 

"There's no sense putting it off any longer -- time to depart. And yes, you'll find the affair we're attending  _ quite  _ different than a town festival." Festivals Isa had seen from a distance, but had never had the opportunity to attend. It would have been unbecoming.

With nothing else to do to delay, they came to the inevitable. Soon they were walking down the stairs of the main entrance to an extremely ornate carriage. A young girl was there, which Terra believed to be the maid that would fetch whatever Isa requested. She looked a good deal younger with dark hair. She held up a box, covered in beautiful detailed carvings, and gave it to the prince before bowing and taking her leave. Terra supposed that was the gift the prince had been talking about.

The carriage ride was uneventful. They talked, yes, but about how they needed to behave while at the party. When walking the grounds, Terra was to follow slightly behind and to the side of the prince. When dancing, Terra was to be standing along the wall in eyeshot of the prince. When eating, Terra was to be standing behind the prince's chair and may be fed for show or asked to act as a servant to get things the prince needed. Hopefully, if they kept to that, nothing eventful would occur, at least concerning him and his role to the prince.

Soon they ran out of things to discuss. The next stretch of the ride ended up very quiet. A few questions were asked concerning the duchess. Terra didn't learn anything he didn't already know. The duchess, Naminé, was a young girl who was turning the age to be considered a proper heir, sixteen. Many people had been invited. All allies, as far as they knew. But they should be wary nonetheless.

Eventually, they just spent the last part of the ride in silence. Luckily, by that point, it wasn't much longer until they had arrived. Terra glanced out the window to see a rather impressive estate. A large garden, fountains, and all sorts of décor surrounding a large building that was covered in its own elegance. Yet, for all its finery, it didn't appear tacky or overdone. Merely regal and beautiful.

The carriage came to a stop, and Terra turned to the prince. "Should I get out first and help you? Or just follow your lead?" he asked, looking nervous.

All things considered, Isa supposed it could be worse. If he had to go to a party, this one was preferred in that it was relatively quiet, and thrown for someone for whom he had least had some modicum of respect. 

The fresh air had cleared his head and, while he still looked grumpy as always, he no longer looked like he wanted to kill everything that crossed his path. Which was progress. 

"I'll exit first, and you follow," he ordered as the carriage slowed. "It would be quite different if you were a guard. Which, while technically correct, isn't what we want the others to believe. Remember -- as you're walking, look down. Don't meet anyone's eyes unless they speak to you." 

It was all sickening, but simply the way things had to be. Shaking himself free of all other thoughts, he squared his shoulders and stepped from the carriage with as much regality as he could muster. 

It was a royal greeting, of course. Multiple servants and guards bowing before stepping to the side while others scrambled to tether his horses. Isa, of course, didn't dignify their presence, staring straight ahead and impassive as he made his way towards the castle, where he'd likely receive an official greeting from the master of the house. Who'd equally likely already noticed his presence.

Don't look at anyone. That was easily done, but would hinder him noticing any potential threats. Then again, offending someone by looking at them could  _ make  _ a potential threat. Terra nodded in response to Isa's orders. It would be smarter to just follow that rule for now. When all eyes would be on the two of them. Once they were in crowds, he would get a proper look around and ensure the prince's safety then.

After the prince left the carriage, he followed out. He tried to find a balance between appearing regal and appearing submissive to the prince. Even while looking at the ground, he could feel eyes on him. Most felt curious, likely those that wondered who he was and why he was with the prince. A few felt pointed, as if angry at him. He didn't know why that would be. But even fewer felt... malicious. As if someone already had a plan. That one got to him the most. But he didn't react to it. He just made sure the prince's cloak remained in his line of sight in front of him.

This was going to be a long day, wasn't it? As much as he tried to stay positive, he dreaded this. This was either going to be extremely boring or extremely uncomfortable. Maybe it would find a way to be both. He hoped not, but it was very likely. But he'd have to endure it. He had a job to do. Guard the prince above all else. No matter what that meant. A little discomfort could be ignored for that greater purpose.

Once inside the estate, Isa was instantly swarmed with greetings. Having put off the start of his journey for as long as humanly possible, he had arrived not  _ late _ , but certainly not early, and many of the other nobles had already arrived. 

The prince remained curt and dignified, carrying on the conversations in a tone that was civil but not entirely warm. Most of the people here he only had the vaguest recollections of. . . some, he didn't recognize at all. At least most of the greetings were equally civil in nature. . . though a few were off-putting in a manner Isa couldn't quite place. Was it due solely to Terra's presence? 

It was a blur of nobles -- here, an older man with wispy gray hair that Isa vaguely recognized from court; there, a young boy who barely seemed old enough to shave; an elegant gentleman with a rather unusual shade of hair, who spoke just a bit too politely for Isa's taste. 

He was pulled from his musings on the matter by the approach of the duchess herself, accompanied by her father, and immediately fell into a short bow. All the while, he was hyperaware of Terra's presence at his back -- both comforting, and the opposite, as he knew all too well that he was attracting far more attention than he already did as a result of his position.

Terra, while with his eyes firmly on the ground, could tell that this whole day was going to be tense. Overly polite greetings, subtle brags, petty jabs that would only be hushed whispers yet everyone still heard. He was already getting tired of it. How was he going to endure this all day? Especially when he could already hear a few whispers about his own presence. He just needed to ignore it.

When the prince stopped in front of him, he halted and glanced up. Just for a moment to avoid running into the prince. Quickly, he copied the prince's bow, going a bit lower.... like he  _ ought _ .

The duchess, Naminé, smiled a little when she saw Prince Isa. Finally, someone more sensible. Maybe the party would be a bit more bearable. At least, as far as the company went. She quite liked what the plans for the day were.

She stepped down the stairs slightly to properly greet Isa. The long angel sleeves of her pure white dress nearly avoided falling against the ground. The trim of the skirt was a dark purple. Lace covered nearly every inch of her person. Golden lacing held together the middle of her dress. Yet the most beautiful thing about her was her smile, which she truly wore for a moment while going to meet Isa.

"It's good to see you, Prince Isa. Welcome to my annual," she said while politely folding her hands in front of her. She glanced at the person behind Isa. Who was that? She would ask later.

Naminé was a polite girl. That was near the extent of Isa's opinion. Which, frankly, was a much higher opinion than he held of most people. Still -- it was nowhere near the level that both of their fathers seemed to want. 

He knew very well how much his father hoped he'd return from this party with a bride-to-be, and that was far from anything with a likelihood of happening. In addition to everything else about Isa that prevented such an engagement, Naminé was still a child -- at least in Isa's eyes, though there were others who would likely see the situation differently. 

"It's an honor," He said as he bowed, then went through the courteous motions of kissing the Duchess' knuckles. Everything. . . all for appearances. It was tiring.

Upon straightening, he produced the box he'd tucked away in a cloak pocket and offered it to Naminé with another bow. "Thank you for having me, milady. I've brought you a gift worthy of your status and brilliance." 

It was a simple but elegant necklace, which he was certain she would like. Perhaps one of her less extravagant gifts.

"Thank you," Naminé said while carefully taking the gift. She carefully opened it then smiled gently and genuinely. As much as she liked some of the over-the-top, fine gifts, it was nice to actually get one that actually suited her tastes. She'd always had been the more subtle sort of beautiful and refined. She liked it that way too.

After handing the gift to one of the servants nearby, she turned to lead the way to where the other guests were. The doors opened to a large, grand hall. Soft music from stringed instruments played in the background of the ambient chatter. The room was full of guests, each one dressed in the finest they likely owned. It looked very much like some sort of show, where each were aiming for the first prize of an extravagant pageant.

Terra didn't understand how people wore such clothes. He was already uncomfortable in what he was wearing. Maybe the discomfort wasn't solely from the clothing, though. It seemed that, wherever they went, stares lingered on him. Of course, people looked at the duchess than the prince first, but the eyes stayed on him for longer. Maybe that was because he stood in the back. But the stares felt too pointed for that. He didn't like it. But he didn't have much of a choice.

He simply tried to stay close. The prince had warned him about the looks they would receive. He just didn't want any of those stares, and connected thoughts, to turn into actions towards him. The prince had enough to worry about without having to worry about defending him. He wished there was a way he could defend himself from anything unpleasant that wouldn't end poorly. But he didn't have the luxury to be in that position now.

At least there were things to distract himself with. As subtly as he could, he looked around at the decor. It was beautiful, if a bit too much. It was certainly finer than most things he had seen before. Maybe he could entertain himself with that the whole evening. Hopefully, that was the most excitement he got.

Truthfully, the estate was rather beautiful. But Isa wasn't exactly one to care about material beauty. It was simply second nature to him, and surrounded every aspect of his life regardless. Suffice to say, he wasn't entertained by luxury. 

Which meant that Isa was somehow already simultaneously bored and frustrated out of his mind. It didn't show on his expression as he followed Naminé into the ballroom, but neither did he look particularly impressed. 

Crowds. . . chatter. . . posturing . . . 

Yes, all of Isa's least favorite things. 

He could only fight a grimace as he was approached by several nobles, like vultures over carrion. Who would pass the opportunity to form a relationship with the prince? 

The conversation was dull; bickering, full of shallow compliments and minor self-deprecation that was clearly an attempt to receive more compliments for themselves. For the most part, Isa was silent, focusing on restraining his cheek from jumping, nodding cordially along as the other's spoke. 

Then. . .someone had the audacity to compliment something else of Isa's, who had henceforth been standing behind. 

"Pretty thing you have, there. So young and well behaved." The words were punctuated with a disconcerting smile, and the man looked Terra over briefly like a piece of meat. 

Dimly, Isa wondered why he saw quite so much red. It was a very near thing, but he barely managed to keep from sending the noble's head crashing into a column.

Even with all the fineries to look at, Terra was quickly becoming bored. Not to mention this whole ordeal was tiring. He could overhear nearly every conversation around him. It wasn't like anyone was being  _ subtle _ . Each word was either mocking another or praising the speaker of them. Some were a combination of both. Empty flattery and cruel gossip.

Not to mention vanity. Eraqus had always warned against breng vain. Said it came from a place of either twisted pride or a desperate need for praise and attention. Likely both. He listened with scorn at all the people he heard singing their own praises. If they had actually done something so good or noteable,  _ others  _ would be saying such. They would have no need to say it themselves.

It was all pointless chatter about things that he doubted any of them care about. The most common thing was gossip. A noble didn't get invited. Someone had a mistress that all knew about but acted like it was secret. A servant nearly got executed for spilling something on the hem of a noble woman's dress. He wasn't oblivious enough to not notice how some of the gossip was about  _ him _ . The prince speaking out in court to make a condemned soldier his bedslave.

Which many also came to the prince directly to discuss. It really wasn't surprising. The prince had warned him about these sorts of conversations. He tried to ignore them, even as each one made him feel just a little less human. They were speaking about him as some sort of object. It was maddening.

Which was what the man before them now was bringing up. He tried to ignore the glance, but he couldn't help but notice it. It made him thoroughly uncomfortable. He shifted just the slightest bit closer to the prince. At least, as subtly as he could.

Unfortunately for both Terra and the prince, the hungry-eyed man intended to do far more than just  _ look _ . As Isa glared briefly in his direction before changing the flow of conversation rather abruptly towards economics -- sufficiently boring everyone, but leaving them trapped by societal conventions and unable to protest -- he gradually shifted closer. Far too alight eyes continuously lanced over every inch of Terra's body while a fat pink tongue darted out on occasion to lick over thin lips. 

He looked for all the world like someone looking over a five course meal rather than a human being, and was taking advantage of Isa's distraction. Perhaps, if he was quick. . . the prince wouldn't even  _ notice  _ . . . and it wasn't like the servant would be able to protest without facing some sort of punishment. 

With far too little shame, he reached out in what he probably thought was a subtle manner, palm making a beeline directly for Terra's rear underneath the ornate brocade of his puffy outer trousers. 

Unfortunately for the man, his hand never reached its destination. A few inches from making contact, Isa's hand snapped backwards, and he yanked the man upwards and forwards by the wrist without so much as sparing a glance in his direction. 

" _ I'm sorry _ ," He stated bluntly, and his voice was low, cold, exceedingly dangerous. Isa didn't have to be loud to command attention. His eyes narrowed, fixing the now quivering man with a harsh glare as he bent the bastard's wrist backwards just enough to cause pain. " _ You must have mistaken me for an idiot. Or for someone who likes to share. I'm neither of the sort, so know your place and keep to it. Or next time I won't let you keep that hand _ ." 

The prince was seeing completely red, buried beneath a cool wave of disgust, but also something extremely protective. If that hand had made contact. . . oh, the situation would have been far less pleasant.

Terra had been acutely aware of the gradual approach. Surely, this couldn't be happening. This was a public place in front of so many people. Surely, no one would even dare. Especially with the prince so close. Even if he wasn't treated that way, he was the prince's property, wasn't he? Surely, no one was stupid enough to even attempt to touch something that belonged to the prince.

It seemed this man was. And he was quickly becoming aware of how little he could do about it. If he did anything too obvious, and there would be trouble. Likely the man and other people saying he was dangerous and unfit to be a personal servant. Something like that would sign the order for his death. Not to mention all the issues it would cause Isa. But if he did anything too subtle, he could not only still be noticed, but the man would easily be able to follow him further. Thus potentially ending with some stranger assaulting him.

Yet even through the fear and stress, he felt a sickening mix of anger and disgust. Did this man think he was entitled something? Entitled another person? The sense of entitlement was angering enough alone, but when it was mixed with what exactly the man felt entitled  _ to _ . It was disgusting. How could people believe that they deserved another's body? Revolting.

Maybe that's why he'd reached for his neck. The concealed knife on his back begged to be used to defend himself. It would be so easy to do, even if no blood was drawn. Having a knife alone would be enough to intimidate the man into leaving. 

However, he had enough judgement to stop. His hand was still at his neck, but he quickly changed the action. Instead of reaching down his shirt a bit to retrieve the knife, he only rubbed the back of his neck, as if nervous.

Perhaps it was a good thing that he was never actually touched. He wasn't sure what he would have done. That thought alone scared him. But Isa had protected him, just like he always said he would. Maybe he should have trusted the prince a bit more.

Once the man's hand was secured, he stepped to the side, ending up behind Isa still but on the opposite side of the other. It instantly felt safer here. Almost as if Isa was some sort of shield. Not that he would call the prince that aloud, but that was certainly how he felt at the moment. He would have to remember to thank the prince after they left and could talk in private. 

He didn't look at the man.

If Isa had been thinking logically, he would have realized the sheer amount of  _ rage  _ he felt was likely inappropriate for the situation. After all, the man hadn't succeeded in his endeavor -- and far  _ worse  _ things happened to personal servants at parties. 

But he'd promised to protect Terra, who was noble, and strong, and ever so much better of a person than half the people in Isa's current company. Even if he  _ hadn't  _ been, the thought of someone going after another human being like that -- touching them without permission as if they were some animal -- no, that wasn't something that would even be done to  _ animals _ . 

The prince was seeing red, and his internal fire had manifested in the form of outward ice. He held the now begging man's wrist far past the point of comfort, fixing him with a steely gaze that welcomed no argument, then bent his hand backwards  _ further _ . 

"I don't like people touching my things," He said coldly, disguising his protection as possessiveness typical to his character. Beyond that, this man  _ was  _ out of line, regardless of Terra's position. He was the property of the  _ prince _ , essentially an extension of him, and to touch him without asking was far out of line. 

The offending man was spluttering apologies, begging forgiveness, and trying in vain to pull away, likely hurting himself more. Eventually, Isa let him go, shoving harshly backwards towards the wall. "Get out of my sight. I don't want to see any sign of you for the rest of the day." 

The conversation around them had silenced. Even the orchestra had momentarily stopped playing, distracted by the altercation. It wasn't often that the prince lost his composure, which meant a grave offense had to have been committed. He stood stoic, one hand raising to Terra's back in a possessive -- but also an attempt towards a comforting -- gesture. Well within his rights of authority, the party quickly resumed, and Isa forced a breath. 

This was off to a  _ wonderful  _ start.

Terra now understood why the prince had dreaded this party so much. He was quickly finding that he was dreading the rest of the day, and it had only just started. Someone had already attempted something so awful within the first hour. Would someone else get the same idea and try it again later? There was likely to be dancing. The prince would be busy with that and wouldn't be able to ensure no one got to close. He wouldn't have a defense. What would happen then?

Then again, after all the attention they were getting from this altercation, the likelihood of copycats seemed low. It seemed that everyone was watching. He kept his eyes on the prince, even as he felt all the others in the room boring into his back. Had he not gradually gotten used to such stares, he would have been uncomfortable. Even with the experience, the sheer amount of stares was making him want to leave immediately.

But that wasn't an option. It would be rude and seen as suspicious. He'd simply have to endure it. Once the music began again and conversation slowly started back up, he felt most eyes leave him. He didn't doubt that the conversation was now about the previous event, but he could ignore that far easier. Especially when he focused on Isa.

The small touch was a bit comforting. Perhaps because it felt like Isa was saying he had Terra's back. Similar to how he guarded the prince's. Seems they were both protecting the other. Terra guarding against any sort of direct attack to the prince, and Isa guarding against the extremely complicated societal rules.

He tried to show his gratitude by subtly meeting Isa's eyes. He'd say a far better thanks once they left. Now wasn't the time. Especially not with so many staring at them still.

Perhaps it was a mercy then when a herald announced that the duchess wished to begin the dances. Most were easily distracted by the prospect of showing off their fine clothes and formal movements. Terra would wait for the prince's instruction on the matter.

Terra's thanks weren't necessary -- it's not like Isa would have ever considered allowing something like that to happen to him -- but it was received, and Isa gave a nearly imperceptible nod in response. 

That was all he had time for before the party carried on, and Isa had to stifle a heavy sigh. He'd been dancing since he was small, and honestly never  _ had  _ seen the purpose, aside from pretending to carry on with potential suitors. Suitors that Isa would, inevitably, refuse. 

He'd long since vowed never to take a wife, so long as it was in his power. There were always partnership and adoption possibilities when it came time to produce an heir -- but that was still a significant amount of time away. Regardless, the last thing on Isa's mind at the moment was finding a wife. 

Unfortunately, that didn't free him from the societal pressure of having to dance at least once with every woman present. If he hadn't, it would have only drawn attention, and he'd done quite enough of that for the day. 

Hence, how he wound up subtly guiding Terra to the side of the room, out of the way but well within Isa's line of sight. should anything happen, he'd be able to interfere immediately. Before parting, he attempted to give the servant a reassuring look, then moved to deliver the Duchess her birthday dance. 

Long, elegant and full gowns swept across the floor, the movements of the dances precise and reserved. Isa didn't look away from Naminé, standing with full confidence and starting to lead her through the dance, one hand holding the girl's and the other settled on her waist. 

Dimly, he couldn't help but recognize that he was thinking of his servant far more than was likely appropriate. At every turn, he took the opportunity to glance in the other's direction, alert for any sign of trouble.

And now it was time for the part that would likely be the most boring. For Terra, at least. Then again, this party wasn't meant to entertain people of his status. As far as any of the other nobles knew, he was there for show. Like a brooch or a cravat. He knew that wasn't how Isa thought, but it was clear that that was how all the others' thought. None of them looked his way, at least. It seemed that the prince's message had been loud and clear.

He stood off to the side, hands clasped behind his back. Maybe it was a bit of a paranoid motion, but he'd rather not have a repeat problem. But no one seemed to be coming his way, so he was able to relax... a little bit.

There wasn't much to look at that he hadn't already noticed. Plus, all the glamour was starting to fade. It all seemed superficial. Almost as if all the stuff was simply painted gold for show rather than being anything truly precious. Even the dancing seemed dull. Simply people going through the motions of some stiff, formal dance. There was no life in it, no enjoyment. The only dancing he'd ever been a part of had been light, upbeat, and fun. This seemed boring in comparison.

Except one thing did hold his attention. Amongst bright, vibrant, almost harsh shades was something cool. The prince really did stand out, didn't he? His clothes were of softer colors and appeared almost simple compared to the outfits around, yet he looked no less regal. Each movement the prince made was clearly thought out then executed flawlessly. A perfect dance that all would be envious of, but the prince wasn't doing it for attention. That was simply how he was.

For some reason, Terra wanted to dance with him. He had no idea why or how that would ever happen. But the idea formed in his mind and simply wouldn't  _ leave _ . Perhaps then... it would be fun. Something for the two of them to do together. Isa glancing at him only increased the thoughts. Why was he thinking like this? Why was he thinking of them together?

Truthfully, the prince wasn't even thinking through his movements. They were muscle memory at this point, executed fluid and elegant without any conscious effort. A product of strenuous, consistent practice. 

Admittedly, he'd focused a bit more during his dance with Naminé. She was a kind girl, and didn't deserve to have to face the brunt of his cool irritation. So he remained polite, cordial, and wished her happy birthday once again before the dance ended and he bowed low in compliment to her own sweeping curtsy. 

Unfortunately, it was then time to move on to the next noblewoman, who looked  _ far  _ too eager to dance with him. And  _ talk _ . Immediately, Isa's neutral expression became forced, and he dissociated completely from the "conversation," letting out only the occasional hum in response to the girl's bickering. 

The rest of the dances. . . weren't much better. He lost count exactly of the number of times that he braced his hands against stiff corsets, hard beneath layers of tulle and satin. 

Eventually, he was blessed with a break in dancing, and immediately excused himself from his current partner with a bow before glancing once more in Terra's direction. As inconspicuously as possible, Isa made his way to Terra's side, stopped more than once by some shallow conversation he couldn't even remember. 

Eventually, he made it, and wondered dimly why his tense muscles relaxed minutely at finding themselves once more at the other's side.

No matter what Terra tried to distract himself with, his thoughts kept going back to dancing. With the prince. It was entirely inappropriate. That was something that could never happen, even if he wanted it to. There would be such an uproar from a personal servant being treated like an equal that it would cause near immediate harm to their situation. It simply wasn't possible due to their statuses. Plus, he didn't know how to dance like that. It would only put Isa to shame.

But he still wanted to.

He made the excuse in his mind that he was watching the prince so pointedly to look out for potential attackers. Not that he was imagining things that were never going to happen.

It was embarrassing to admit, but he'd gotten rather caught up in his head from it. So when the prince actually  _ stopped  _ dancing, he startled. He quickly recovered as the prince approached. Unable to help it, he smiled, a bit amused that Isa couldn't take two steps without being surrounded by brownnosers.

He straightened his back when the prince came to stand beside him. "Enjoying the party, your Highness?" he asked quietly so none would hear but formally in case someone did. It was also the smallest bit of a joke. He hoped that would help the prince's mood just a small amount.

Oddly enough, it did. Perhaps only because of its sheer juxtaposition to his current mood, and the fact that Isa knew very well that Terra knew his true thoughts on the matter, but the sheer absurdity of the statement caught the prince off guard. 

He snorted, once, the beginnings of a laugh, and couldn't quite contain a slight twitching to his lips. "You could say that. It's quite the . . . extravagant affair, isn't it?" He sighed, taking a moment to adjust his gloves, and stood next to Terra near the wall. It wouldn't be long until the next round of dancing started again and he was summoned back into the flood. In fact, it likely wouldn't be long at all until he was pulled aside by a noblewoman. 

The thought had a muscle in his cheek jumping, and he couldn't help glancing around him warily. One might think he was checking for assassins -- but he'd almost rather deal with another chord around his neck than a single dance more full of stiff corsets, lace, and far too shrill voices. 

"Come with me --" he said then, bluntly, and proceeded to circle an arm around Terra's waist before leading him off, quietly, towards the door that led to the patio. "I require a break from the madness. Just a few minutes before dinner. Hopefully they won't even notice my absence." 

Unrealistic -- but a prince could dream.

The short laugh had actually surprised Terra. Yes, he had been telling a joke in an attempt to raise the prince's mood, but he hadn't expected it to  _ work _ . Though, it could be barely called a laugh. It was still entirely different from Isa's normal demeanor, especially in such an elegant and uptight setting. It was good to hear, even if shocking.

He found himself smiling because of it, glad that he helped the prince, if only in some small way.

"Certainly an event where no expense was spared, your Highness," he said, continuing the odd sort of banter in hopes that he'd bring out that almost smile again.

It surprised him slightly to have the prince's arm around him all of a sudden. He stiffened for a moment before realizing that it was only the prince. He relaxed and allowed himself to be led with no resistance. He wasn't sure what the prince wanted him for, but he would do it. It was likely that it was just for general protection. After all, assassins could easily hide in crowds.

But the prince also seemed a bit weary. He supposed it would get tiring to continuously do the same perfect dance for a different woman every few minutes. Hopefully this short break would help the prince make it through the rest of the event.

"Here I am, your Highness," he said, more to keep up the act than anything else, "where are we off to? The gardens would be quiet." He tried to give a subtle suggestion, but it may have been a bit overboard. After all, it was a large garden with many paths. Isa only wanted to be gone for a moment, not hours.


	12. Chapter 12

Logically, Isa only wanted to be gone for a moment. On every other level, he wanted to be gone for  _ years _ . 

It was for that reason that he took Terra's suggestion wholeheartedly, nodding before setting off for the gardens at a brisk pace. It had just rained, and mist still lingered in the air, dusting the colorful array of flowers that surrounded the cobblestone pathways on which they walked with dew. The flowers themselves were lovely -- it was early springtime, and they were bright in bloom. 

It was a lovely sight. Far more natural and holding of true beauty than any of the estate's fanciful interior. Isa couldn't help admiring it, and let out a relieved breath as the pair finally arrived at a bit of a courtyard, where he finally let his hand fall from Terra's back. 

"Any longer inside and someone was going to lose their hair," He stated bluntly, rubbing wearily at his temple. "One of the noblewomen or myself, I've no idea. But it was an inevitability."

The inside of the estate had been beautiful. Well decorated, well cleaned, meant to make everyone gaze in awe. But the exterior gardens were far better in Terra's opinion. It was a more simple sort of beauty. He'd always loved to look at nature. Plants, stones, birds, deer, all sorts of things. He was sure he had some sort of affinity for it.

This place was no different, though it was more trim and square. Not a  _ natural  _ look, but lovely in its own way nonetheless. The cool air helped him feel less hot. He hadn't even noticed that he was warming up in that ballroom. Then again, anyone would in these clothes. They weren't exactly meant for function nor warm environments like a stuffy party.

Once they were mostly out of sight, he relaxed. Even more so when Isa's hand lowered. Though, for some reason, the spot felt cold where Isa's hand had been. He looked at the prince while the other spoke.

"Maybe it's good you came out here then," he said with a small chuckle, "I get the feeling most of them people in there would prefer their wigs intact. I believe they're quite expensive."

While not exactly a man of the outdoors, Isa was convinced he wasn't either one of fancy parties and shallow conversation. Taking a moment to breathe life back into himself, he loosened his cravat and rolled his shoulders for a moment, exhausted from a combination of holding perfect posture and muscles tensing from strain. 

That relaxation disappeared when Terra spoke, and his eyes went a little bit wide. Completely beside himself, he let out a laugh, brief but bright, with a grin momentarily breaking over his features before it returned once again to neutrality. It wasn't often something managed to amuse him -- his new servant was even more remarkable than Isa had given him credit for. 

"Heavens --" He snorted once more, rubbing the healing wound from his previous assassination attempt for a moment to soothe it where it had been complaining from his tight cravat. "You're entirely correct, aren't you? There's far more horse's hair and fabric in there than anyone's actual hair. Yet they somehow  _ still  _ look atrocious.* 

Hopefully airing these grievances wouldn't come back to bite him -- but he'd kept it inside for far too long, and the process of having someone that shared his perspective was far too pleasant to surrender.

That was certainly new. Now Terra had managed to bring out a genuine laugh, even if it only lasted a moment. Somehow, just the sound made him swell a bit with pride. That he'd been able to make the otherwise stoic prince actually smile and let out a laugh. It was good to see. He liked seeing the prince laugh.

"Horse hair? Is that what they're putting on their head?" he asked, thoroughly baffled by the concept, "I'll admit that I don't know much about fashion, but that sounds a bit odd, if you ask me."

He glanced around the area. It didn't seem like anyone was out here other than them. Well, there may have been a few guards and servants about, but none close enough to overhear them. It was likely that most wouldn't even be able to see them clearly enough to identify them aside from the color palette. It was a very large estate.

"You know, you seem like a very good dancer. I don't know much about your formal dancing, but you looked like you executed it perfectly with every step. No stumbling or uncertainty in any step. How do you do that? Surely, that sort of stiff dancing is hard to do, especially for so long," he said while looking at Isa a bit curiously but genuinely with the compliments.

"There's a line between fashion and absurdity," Isa replied with a faint, flickering and mirthful smirk. "One that a great many of those people have long since left behind them." For heaven's sake, he was wearing an intricate network of metal and crystals over his own hair, yet someone at the party had the audacity to call his outfit "plain."

The sheer number of complaints Isa could have listed over the taste of those attending the party were far too numerous to list in a reasonable time frame. Not that it would have stopped him. Regardless of intention, it was  _ extremely  _ clever of Terra to attempt to change the subject. 

"It's only practice," the prince replied while shaking his head. "I've been practicing such things since I was extremely small, and being royalty was held to rather high standards. I wasn't allowed to be less than perfect, so I wasn't. Now, I hardly have to think about the dance itself. Which is lucky, as it allows me to dissociate from such things completely." 

He paused for a moment, noting that he could still hear the music faintly from inside the ballroom. That was what gave him the idea -- though, why he'd chosen to act on it, he'd never understand. "It's not too complicated, the steps are rather simple. Here --" He held out a glove hand. "I can show you, if you're truly interested."

Terra supposed that practice would make it seem so easy. It still baffled him that someone could do a dance so perfectly without even thinking about it. Then again, he had done complex training drills entirely from memory, sometimes zoning out during them and still doing well. It wouldn't be too much of a stretch to think that a dance could be memorized in the same way.

The thought of the young prince attempting to learn to dance with people much bigger than him suddenly wouldn't leave Terra's mind. Extremely small... he imagined a toddler. Somehow it was both adorable and a little sad. The prince had to learn dances and etiquette instead of playing. He would have hated that.

He had been about to say something about how fortunate it was that the prince could just ignore the dances in a way. When he suddenly stopped. An offered hand... for a dance? He looked at the prince confused for a moment.

No one else was really out here. The only ones that would be would be servants and guards, and those would know better than to ask or tell anything. So it wouldn't hurt to try.. right? He was quite curious about the dance he had seen Isa doing. Not to mention... what had been in his mind while he watched Isa dance. Not that he would admit to thinking that.

Lightly, he took the prince's hand. "I was rather curious," he admitted, "it looked complicated to me. But then again, a lot of people were moving around at the same time."

"That's the nature of these affairs." Isa snorted again as he took Terra's hand slightly more firmly in his own, then used his free one to gently nudge the rest of his body into proper form. Finally, one hand settled on the other man's waist, a booted foot nudging Terra's feet just a bit apart. 

"They're all a performance -- relatively simple things behind a mask of money and glitter," He explained. That's how things had always been -- at least for him. He knew very well it wasn't the same everywhere, nor with every noble. But in his kingdom, at least, things were lacking and hollow. No true character or depth. 

Isa himself would have been the same, perhaps, had he not shared a predisposition towards opposition. That, and . . . 

He shook himself from his thoughts, settling into proper form. "Now . . . follow my lead. I'll step forward -- you step backwards. Allow my movements to guide you." A single, simple step. Then another. "Yes, there you are." Well, somewhat. It was evident that Terra hadn't done this before, and the cobblestone wasn't best for dancing.

Terra let himself be guided into whatever stance was necessary for this dance. The prince was the one that knew what it should look like after all. But he was a little confused about the position. He was standing in the way that usually the smaller of the duo would stand. Maybe that was because he had never done it before? Hopefully, it wouldn't cause a problem.

He did continue to listen to Isa's words. It was clear that many people, maybe even most, at the party were more about show than any other virtue. There were at least a few that lacked all morality, and it was obvious. Yet, they all acted as if they were the pinnacle of beauty and goodwill. All entirely shallow and for the praise of others. It showed in everything they did, even dancing.

Snapping himself out of those thoughts, he met Isa's eyes for a moment. Just follow the prince's lead. He was certainly doing that a lot lately, wasn't he? It wasn't a bad thing, though. Even if it hadn't been an especially long time, he trusted the prince. If he could trust the prince with his life, he could trust the prince with leading a dance. Especially since he needed the guidance anyways.

So, they began. He tried to follow the prince's movements carefully, staring at their feet to prevent stepping on toes. Gradually, he was falling into the rhythm of the dance, the faint music helping a little. But it was mostly Isa. The prince led boldly and confidently in a way that was easy to follow. So it didn't take long to understand the majority of the movements and follow along.

He eventually looked up to meet Isa's eyes with a small smile. He'd never done this before, and part of him was extremely happy about how he was learning. Perhaps that was because of the vision he had imagined beforehand. Somehow, actually dancing was far better than something made up within his own mind.

Unfortunately, not looking at his feet had consequences. He didn't noticed an uneven bit of cobblestone and lost his footing entirely.

Only moments prior, Isa had called the dance simple. Just a few breaths ago, and it had been simple. A minor thing. A necessity -- a practiced ritual. Nothing more. He'd thought nothing of it, certainly not anything  _ good _ . 

Why was he suddenly, then, almost enjoying himself? 

The body beneath his hands was muscular and tall, bearing no trace of lace or corsets. The ground beneath his feet wasn't gilded, nor made for dancing. It was cobblestone, laid uneven and wet, not meant at all for the gliding sweep of dresses and the movements of nice leather boots. The music was faint; the ground around them wet. The sun shone only faintly, and nothing like the torches that hung in the chandeliers in the ballrooms of the estates Isa had frequented in his past.

His partner was a man. A servant. A soldier at best; a slave in technicality. One whose movements were clumsy, incredibly unpracticed and imperfect.

So why was the dance infinitely more perfect than it had been inside? Why was it  _ wonderful _ ? Why was it more enjoyable than any other dance that Isa had gone through in his life? For the first time ever, he didn't feel the need to dissociate through the motions. He almost wanted to smile. 

"You're not entirely hopeless," He remarked -- right at the moment that Terra fell over. 

Of course, Isa caught him easily, though the other man was already tilted backwards. They ended up in a sort of dip, Terra held securely at quite the downward angle, caught mid-fall by the prince. Who, for some reason, couldn't look away from the servant's face. Had his eyes always been that intriguing. . . ? 

It was at that moment that Isa heard footsteps approaching from behind -- likely a servant, or a guard, but they didn't need to find him dancing with his personal servant. Without hesitation -- to cover, of course -- He closed the remaining distance between himself and his suspended partner to press their lips together.

Time had almost seemed to slow. One moment, Terra had slipped and was falling. The next, he was being held, kept from falling to the ground and hurting himself. He looked up with wide, startled eyes as he tried to process what was happening before him.

But how could he? There was something distracting about the way the prince was staring at him. It wasn't just the normal searching gaze, nor the tired, bored look that the prince had had not long ago. It was an interesting look. Still a little searching, yes, but almost as if the intention of the search had changed. From necessity to a personal interest. Maybe even a genuine desire to learn more. There was almost a smile on the prince's face.

They were so close like this. The dancing had been close already, yes, but this was different from that. He swore he could hear the drums from the ballroom much louder all of a sudden, at an increasingly fast tempo and an even two beat pattern. Nevermind that the ensemble at the part lacked percussion. But where else could that sound be coming from?

Then, suddenly, whatever small space between them had been left disappeared. The prince's lips came into contact with his own. It had happened before, but not like this. The first time had been forceful, a show, intended to convince others of what their perceived roles were. This was different. It was softer, more gentle. Almost as if it had been for something other than show. But why would that possibly be the case?

Slowly, he pressed back a little.

There had indeed been a servant. One that had been given the unfortunate task of locating the prince. At least the prince hadn't been hard to find, but it was clear that the servant was...  _ interrupting _ .

"Your Highness," the servant said with a low bow, "I hate to trouble you, but I was asked to inform you that the last few dances are about to begin then the dinner feast will be served."

Now the servant could only hope the prince listened. They didn't want trouble..

In the same manner that the prince had lost himself in the dance, he was tempted to lose himself in the kiss. Why on earth was that? Logically, his mind was attuned and aware to face whatever had found them and continue this performance, but part of him almost wanted to . . . fully commit to it. Especially when Terra started kissing  _ back _ . 

At the realization, and the servant's words, he pulled back as if burned, setting Terra upright on his feet. Something deep within his belly was suddenly incredibly unsettled, and the slightest bit nauseous. Had he truly been  _ enjoying  _ taking advantage of Terra's position? Had part of him decided to enjoy indulging in the aspects of a pleasure servant that he'd long since denied himself? 

No -- Isa refused. He wouldn't let that happen. He would  _ never  _ be that sort of monster. Never would he abuse Terra like that, nor anyone else. Already, shame was settling heavily over him, and he wondered not for the first time if he was as bad as all of the rest. 

"I'll be right there," He answered the servant, cordial but a bit cold, then watched as they departed. His shoulders were the slightest bit stiff, now, even as something warm and pleasurable still thrummed within him. What on earth  _ was  _ that . . .?

Whatever it was -- Isa wasn't going to let it rule him. 

Glancing back over his shoulder towards Terra, his expression was unreadable. "We should head back inside," He said, before he turned to do just that, trusting that Terra would follow. God . . . this party was already quite enough. 

Hopefully the rest of the affair would pass without incident.

Why had it bothered Terra just a bit to be suddenly pulled away from?

Logically, he knew that the kiss had only been a cover for the approaching servant. He hadn't even heard the person getting close. Clearly, Isa had and had acted in a way that would avoid suspicion or questioning. It was the smart and safe option for them while in this position. Simply what had to be done in order to maintain their cover. It was for safety.

So why had he actually wanted it to continue? Perhaps it was just due to it being a new feeling. He'd always been to busy with family or training to actually court another person. So he'd never really kissed another person. Aside from on the cheeks or forehead in a familial way. This kiss hadn't been like that. Not to mention it had been a lot more gentle than the kiss the prince had done in order to convince the king. It was almost.. tender.

But it was gone. He hadn't wanted it to be gone. He didn't understand why, but it bothered him that it was over. It was probably nothing. Just a new feeling that he wanted to try more of. Nothing else than that. So why did it upset him that the prince seemed more distant now. Just moments ago, they had been dancing. Isa had almost looked happy. Why did that all have to stop?

"Yes, your Highness," he said quietly, glancing away from the prince.

What was this unsettled feeling in his gut now? It felt like he was missing something. Along with a feeling of shame and embarrassment. Had he upset the prince somehow? Maybe he shouldn't have suggested coming out to the garden. But there was also... a sort of warm. The lingering feeling of pressure on his lips. He didn't understand it.

He followed the prince back into the ballroom silently. Back to the act.


	13. Chapter 13

The break was supposed to have made Isa feel better. 

It didn't. 

Why did he feel  _ worse  _ now? Why were the final dances he went through the motions of somehow more upsetting than the ones that had made him feel the need to escape to begin with? The shrill voices were more shrill, now, the dresses more unnecessarily extravagant. The music was far too loud, the ground too smooth, and Isa would have willingly traded it for a fresh breeze and rain-drenched cobblestone. 

Rather than frustrated now, however, he simply felt  _ sad _ . Why was that feeling  _ worse _ ? The anger and frustration would have been better than this gnawing emptiness, chewing at his insides like a cavity. Though he tried his best to ignore it, Isa found his mind distracted throughout every single one of those pained dances. He'd . . . been awful. That was unforgivable. 

It wouldn't happen again. 

With his resolved decision came the announcement of dinner, and he silently moved to collect Terra before following the rest of the royals into the large banquet hall and taking his position at the table beside Naminé. Terra was encouraged to kneel beside him, though Isa requested a pillow for the poor man's knees. He'd been throwing himself on them far too often, recently . . . 

And Isa cared too much to see him hurt like that. Even if only a little. 

Didn't that make him awful?

The odd feeling didn't leave. Even as Terra watched yet again from the sidelines, the memories of him and the prince dancing in the garden persisted. Why had that affected him so greatly? Yes, he had imagined it prior to it actually occurring but.. it having truly happened was a different thing entirely. How was he supposed to think of anything else?

All he could think about was how cold and empty his hand felt. How there felt like there was a divot in his side where something belonged. How odd the smooth floor felt beneath his feet. Every little detail was amplified in his mind, and he felt out of place. It was very too loud and stuffy in here. Meanwhile it was the perfect day outside to continue a walk or a dance...

Soon, those thoughts were interrupted. Maybe he should have considered it a mercy that they were. He was getting far too caught up in them. And all it did was make him long for something he couldn't have. Something he shouldn't even want. Dancing or any other action like that wasn't meant for him and the prince to share. Certainly not given what others would perceive as his true position.

He followed the prince silently. It was strange... he felt like there was something separating them now. Perhaps it was the way the prince didn't quite look at him. Or how the prince almost seemed upset at his very presence. He felt like he had done something wrong. But what?

Once in the dining room, he tried not to gasp and look around in awe. It was hard to resist. It was quite an extravagant dining hall. A long wooden table covered in fine cloths and table wear. Large windows on one wall illuminated the room on side, and a large array of candles lit the opposite wall. Servants already moving about to get nobles seated and getting them wine or any drink they requested.

Perhaps Terra should have expected to be placed like this. He had assumed he would have been made to go elsewhere entirely, but at least he could remain at the prince's side. That would make it much easier to protect the prince after all. He was a bit grateful that the prince had spoken up. The marble floor hadn't looked particularly appealing to rest his knees on.

Across the table and a seat down sat a particularly notable noble. One that seemed to fit right in with the environment yet stood out entirely. His soft pink hair was tied into a ponytail with a silken ribbon. Every inch of him held an air of sophistication. Fine clothes yet not as flashy as some of the other guests. But he would just as easily be lost in the crowd if you looked away for a moment.

The gentleman smiled, perhaps a bit like a person would to an animal, at the prince. "Ah, his royal Highness truly did come. I hadn't seen you myself, so I was afraid I had missed the chance to be in your presence," he said, his tone sounding almost too flattering and smooth.

How was one to enjoy a party feat when he already felt incredibly nauseous? 

The conversations, shallow as ever, that surrounded him had already started to give Isa a headache. It was insufferable. . . if only he'd been able to lose himself in his drink. But he couldn't afford to be compromised mentally -- not when he knew assassins were after him, and not when he had to look out for Terra. 

Just as he'd resigned himself to a dinner of dissociation, someone had the audacity to speak to him. That sickly sweet tone . . . far too piercing eyes. . . something decidedly fake and practiced about his well-constructed countenance. 

Oh, Isa abhorred him immediately. 

"I wasn't aware I was some sort of fine art piece to be viewed by any who wished," He retorted in a tone he barely managed to keep anger from. As he spoke, a servant delivered his firts course of food, and he leaned willingly back as she set the plate down. Dimly, he noted that no one seemed to intend to feed Terra. . . he'd have to sneak him something when he had the chance. 

He held the other gentleman's eye, and felt something . . . unsettling. Almost a thrill of competition . . .Or perhaps something else. Isa couldn't place it -- but he didn't care for it in the slightest.

This was going to be a very long evening, wasn't it? Terra had never been at a regal dinner such as this, but he'd heard that they tended to be long. Endless courses of various small foods that gradually filled you past the point of being sick yet more kept coming. At least the food was cooked to perfection and said to be delicious. That would at least make it bearable to most. But that wasn't going to be what made it difficult for him.

It was going to be sitting there while gluttonous nobles gouged themselves while he got  _ nothing _ . Especially since he caught whiff of the kitchen as servants bustled past. It seemed that the dinner they had lined up was indeed well prepared and meant to taste like the best versions of the foods imaginable. How was he supposed to just sit here? He had no other choice, but that didn't make him any happier about it.

Especially not when he noticed what the first course was. 

Once it was all served, and the hostess declared the meal to begin, one of the nearby nobles started speaking quite loudly about how they recognized the dish. It was a delicacy from the east in which they ate raw fish with various sauces and some white grain that Terra had never seen before. He wished he could try it, if nothing more than curiosity. But he wasn't going to ask.

Meanwhile, the particularly petty pink noble laughed at the prince's comment. "Oh, that's not it at all, your Highness. I'm merely honored to have gotten the chance to meet you. It isn't very often that one meets the heir to the throne, is it?" he asked with a voice dripping with formality, "tell me, his royal Highness doesn't often come to these events. What inspired you this time?"

And here Isa had been hoping he'd be able to sneak Terra a morsel or two over the course of the meal. There was no way he'd manage that, now -- the food he'd been presented with was extremely expensive, and quite the delicacy. Prince or not, he would have attracted all manner of unwanted attention for feeding it to someone who was essentially his pet. 

He'd have to make it up to Terra, later. . . or perhaps he could sneak something out with them for the carriage ride back home. 

For now, he had no choice but to glance down at the fish-based dinner -- if he could call it that -- for a moment, before picking up a piece and dipping it in the sauce provided. It looked a mite odd, if he was honest, but that fact was dismissed as a difference in food culture, and the oddiity of the dish in general. Somehow managing to do so elegantly, he then placed the entire morsel into his mouth. At least it would give him an excuse not to answer the pressing noble's question immediately. 

"You're awfully brash to address me so directly," He returned after taking his time chewing and swallowing his bite. "As well as to question my decisions. The Duchess is a friend of mine -- I don't owe you any further explanation."

The noble watched the prince eat almost too pointedly. Something about his overly-polite smile changed into something a bit more sinister before being schooled back into formality. He took a bite of his own food, using it to hide his expression slightly. It seemed only he was aware that the fish within the prince's food was a noticeably different color. Perhaps entirely different in many ways. Though, now it was too late for anyone to tell.

"Forgive me if I've overstepped, your Highness," the noble said, looking almost pleased, "I've always been told I tend talk more than necessary. It was simply curiosity. I had no intention to offend his royal Highness."

Something about this noble put Terra on edge. Unlike the rest of the attendees at the party, this noble seemed to think before he spoke. That alone made the noble stand out, but there was something more to it. A sort of... aura the noble projected. One that radiated sophistication and formality, yes, but also one of danger. Misleadingly beautiful. Like the Angel's Trumpet. A beautiful pale pink flower... that could cause one's mind to go entirely numb.

The comparison stuck in Terra's mind and made him realize something. He was meant to protect the prince from everything. But.. how could he prevent someone from poisoning his food..? It was all he could think about now. Luckily, he did know some about poisons and their antidotes. He went through each in his head. The careful lists Eraqus had made him memorize. Odd, how it may come into use one day like this. Hopefully, that day would not be today, but he ought to be prepared.

Just in case.

If only Isa himself had been paying enough attention to notice the discoloration of his food. If only he'd been less distracted by the idiotic noble's existence, he might have also considered the possibility of someone attempting to harm him through his food. 

But he didn't. 

Every bite of the odd fish delicacy was devoured, if only to keep his mouth busy. The one exception was a morsel he managed to sneak into a napkin, fully intending to give it to Terra later. It wasn't much, but it was something, and he'd see to it that the servant had a proper meal. 

The Angel's-Trumpet of a man was ignored from that point on, though Isa could feel his eyes on him. The gentleman had done nothing outright malicious, yet the prince felt incredibly unsetled by his every action and word. It was different to pay attention to anything else, even as he did his best to avoid acknowledging the man. 

At least. . . until it grew hard to breathe. 

It happened slowly. So slowly he almost didn't even notice. 

But, before Isa knew it, it grew hard to chew. Then, his breath came far more unnatural than necessary, and he could identify a distinct pattern of numbness trailing from his tongue, then across his jaw and down his throat. If he concentrated . . . he could feel it in his lungs. 

Whatever course they were in, now, Isa suddenly didn't notice any longer. He froze, staring distantly at his food, and swallowed -- a motion he could no longer feel. 

_ Damn it _ .

How did nobles even stand to have meals for so long? Even though his thoughts, Terra could tell that hours were passing. He could mostly tell due to the gradual pain forming in his knees and legs even through the pillow and the growing hunger. It simply wasn't fair that everything smelled so good while he got nothing. Though, he wasn't going to complain. He trusted that the prince would, at the very least, get him something to eat once they got back to the castle. Even though that would be hours from now, most likely.

He tried to continue distracting himself. His mind had wandered from thinking of poisons to plants in general to the plants he had kept on his windowsill at home. Hopefully, Aqua was still caring for them. He got the feeling she was. She was likely taking care of everything she could whenever she was home in the evenings. Ventus was probably trying to help where he could, but that wouldn't be a lot. So much had been left on Aqua's shoulders... he hoped he could see her soon, if only to make sure she was still caring for herself amongst the stress.

Meanwhile, the noble continued to watch the prince, as if hungry. With every hour that went by, the look got more and more intense. Almost expectant. Then smug and pleased. Ever poised, he looked over the prince's face.

"Something the matter, your Highness?" he asked, low and almost inaudible over the sound of other nobles, "you're looking a bit pale."

No one else seemed to notice the words that had been spoken. No one.. but Terra, who was immediately snapped out of his thoughts. His eyes flicked up to look at the prince's face. Something was clearly off. It almost looked like the prince's face was drooping just the smallest amount. There was obvious effort in the prince's attempts to chew and swallow. Something was wrong.

As subtly as he could manage, he grabbed the edge of the prince's cloak and pulled. Just enough to get the prince's attention.

No . . . 

_ No _ . This couldn't be happening. He hadn't even eaten that much. 

Of course,  _ now  _ Isa was eating nothing at all, only sipping futilely at his flavorless, watered-down wine in the hopes that it would cause the numbness to disappear. It couldn't be the  _ wine _ , could it? It hardly tasted like anything at all -- surely any trace of . . .  _ poison  _ would have been obvious, right? 

For a few moments, Isa remained still, attempting to convince himself the feeling was psychosomatic. Then -- That  _ bastard  _ spoke, and his eyes snapped upwards immediately to fix him with a harsh glare. It wasn't hard, at least for Isa, to determine what had happened. 

_ Murderer _ . 

But he couldn't call it. He had no proof -- and he'd cause a scene. On the off-chance that Isa survived this, he needed to keep everything firmly under wraps. Therefore, he was trapped here by societal convention, unable to draw attention to himself even as his breath stilled more and more by the moment. He was helpless, desperation mounting in his chest and nearly causing him to panic. Was he trapped?

Had he no choice but to sit here, silent, and wait to die? 

It was only the tugging of Terra's fingers that pulled him from his asphyxiation-addled despair, and Isa forced a difficult breath while adjusting his cravat, then turned to his servant. Right.  _ Terra _ . He wasn't helpless -- he wasn't alone. 

Slipping once more into a cold, calculating demeanor, he turned pointedly away from the noble after giving him a slight nod, then graced a hand along Terra's jaw, keeping the movement as sensual as possible. He then bent down a bit, acting as if simply kissing his pet's cheek . . . 

In reality, he was whispering into the other man's ear with a far too heavy tongue. "He's poisoned me. I can't breathe." 

And in that was his last hope of salvation.

Nothing was ever simple or calm was it?

The moment Terra heard the prince speak, he felt a mixture of dread and disgust. The feelings were so potent that he wasn't even phased by the touch or the closeness. But he didn't have time to dwell on emotions. He had to  _ do  _ something. Perhaps it was a bit ironic that he had already been thinking about poisons. Quickly, he tried to think of which poisons he knew could caused breathing to become restricted. Nothing immediately came to mind.

No, he could think about this more  _ while  _ coming up with a solution. He couldn't help from this spot. Surely there was some sort of apothecary or at least someone with some medical expertise here, right? Either way, he couldn't get there on the floor.

"Act as if you're telling me to get something," he whispered. He tried to be as subtle as possible, almost appearing as if his mouth didn't even move. He needed to act inconspicuous and fast. It wouldn't be strange for him to talk to other servants, right? He could try to get someone to help him find what he needed. And he needed to do so quickly. There was always a point with poisons when an antidote would no longer help, and whatever this was.. was very fast.

Not having to be told twice, Isa gave a nearly imperceptible nod, then made a show of whispering into Terra's ear a bit more noticeably. Under the pretense of giving an order, he whispered "It's . . . getting hard to speak. My throat's gone numb . . . " He was calculating, analytical, and distancing himself from the danger through conscious analysis of his symptoms. He  _ refused  _ to lose himself in fear. 

"I believe it's . . . paralyzing me. And is reaching my heart and lungs." A grim eventuality, but one that certainly seemed likely with how he was starting to weakly pant for air. 

Finally pulling away from his servant, he snapped his fingers towards the kitchen as if he'd just simply ordered another sauce, or something of the sort, rather than put his life in the hands of a bedservant. Eyes met for a moment, and Isa's betrayed nothing but trust and a hint of desperation before he turned back to his deadly meal, now simply scraping it along on his plate. 

There was nothing he could do, now, but wait. Wait, and hope that Terra had some knowledge of poisons. In the meantime . . . all he could do was sit here, primly and trapped by convention, stared down across the table by the hungry eyes of the person he was  _ certain  _ was his killer.

Terra listened carefully. A poison that slowly caused paralysis? Nothing immediately came to mind, but he could think while he walked. It would be more productive that way.

He met the prince's eyes for just a moment. He hoped the look he gave was reassuring. Even though he wasn't sure  _ how  _ he was going to fix this yet, he  _ was  _ going to fix it. He had to. So he nodded to the prince's words as if acknowledging an order. In a way, he was acknowledging something. That he needed to act quickly. Lest the prince slowly suffocate.

Silently, he stood and began to walk towards the kitchen. He couldn't act  _ too  _ rushed, lest someone think something was wrong. But walking briskly to fulfill the prince's request wouldn't gain much attention. It wasn't as if anyone was looking at him anyways.

The moment he was out of sight of the party, his pace increased. It didn't take long to find the kitchen. He merely had to follow the trail of servants. Most of the servants stared at him, as if confused as to who he was, before quickly looking away. It could only be assumed that they'd figured it out. But that didn't matter right now. What mattered was action. And saving the prince's life.

He entered the kitchen and quickly scanned the room. Whoever was in charge of the kitchen would likely be able to help him. He just hoped this could be done subtly. It didn't take long to identify a rather strong looking woman who was looking over the final touches to what seemed to be the next course. Especially considering how the woman was constantly calling out for people to fix things or prepare the next dish.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he said, quickly walking up to her, "I need something, urgently. For the prince."

Maybe mentioning the prince had been a bad idea in front of all of the other kitchenhands, but it got the attention of the kitchen head. Immediately, she straightened and motioned for Terra to follow her to a slightly less crowded spot in the kitchen. Once there, he quietly tried to explain with as few details as possible that the prince needed the apothecary. Only to discover that the man in charge of all the medicines... had seemingly disappeared off the estate. And many of the keys had disappeared. So there was no way into the room where the majority of medicines were kept without breaking the door.

Meanwhile, the noble seemed far too pleased by Terra's departure. It was likely far too late for the source of the poison to be determined. After all, it should already be in the prince's stomach, especially if it was already affecting the prince. His smile only grew as he noticed the weak words and actions of the prince.

Perhaps it was a bit prideful, but the noble simply couldn’t help it. Everything was going so wonderfully to plan. The backup wouldn’t even be needed, much to her displeasure. So, a little subtle gloating felt in order. He wasn’t foolish enough to think the prince didn’t suspect him, but no proof existed aside from something already in the prince’s stomach.

“This really is a wonderful party, don’t you think, your Highness? Truly, it just.. takes your breath away,” he said before raising his own wine and quietly adding, “to your health.”

There were no arms around him, no sharp wire holding him in place and stealing his breath. Isa's arms and legs were fully mobile, body unrestricted and free. 

Yet he was just as trapped as that night in his bedroom, breath stolen much slower but just as dangerously. And the solution to his problem couldn't be solved nearly as easily. There was no physical enemy to fight away that would save him -- all he could do was sit here, helpless, and pray that Terra found a solution. 

It was shameful -- it was terrifying -- above all, it was  _ infuriating _ . He sat, trying to keep his gasping breaths as steady as possible, and tensed every muscle to keep his posture perfect. If he hadn't . . . he likely would have fallen over. 

But, even if he died here, he refused to show that level of indignity.  _ Especially  _ in front of this pink-haired bastard that dared to goad him. 

Teeth clenching, rage surging within him, he stared the man down with blurry eyes that burned with fire, then slowly raised his own glass. _ Don't draw attention _ . . . 

If he wasn't certain already, that line itself was proof. Yet, not nearly enough for Isa to make a solid accusation. 

Not that he likely could, now, if he tried. His tongue was heavy and immobile in his mouth, and he knew that if he spoke his words would slur. He was growing rapidly more lightheaded by the moment, and wasn't certain how much longer he could even keep this up -- he was dying, right in front of his murderer's hungry eyes. 

_ Hurry, Terra, please -- I can't give this bastard the satisfaction of doing me in. _

Panic was gradually rising within Terra. What was he to  _ do _ ? How could he possibly undo a poison without an antidote? He didn't even know what the poison was! But he had to do something! Or else the prince was well on his way to death. He could hardly even think straight.

Until the kitchenhead asked one simple question that snapped him out of his growing panic. "Was it something his Highness ate?"

_ Something he ate _ . Suddenly, he remembered a sort of final resort for ingesting poisons. Of course, that would remove the poison from the prince's body. It wasn't the most pleasant nor subtle option, but it was better than death. He was sure that the prince would agree. Why hadn't he thought of this before?

Quickly, he requested three things of the kitchenhead: mustard powder, a cup of water, and absolute privacy. The last one was likely the most important. If only for the sake of the prince. He knew this wasn't going to be the ideal situation, but neither was dying. So the prince had to agree. Even if it would bother his pride a bit.

He and the kitchenhead agreed on a spot to meet at. Now it was just a matter of getting the prince there in the most subtle way possible. Hopefully that wouldn't be too difficult. No one really paid attention to him leaving, but everyone would notice the prince leaving earlier. This was going to be difficult. Especially if the numbness was spreading.

Quietly, he walked back into the dinning hall. There was a new dish on the table yet everyone was oblivious to the silent game of life and death. It was good that no one noticed at least. He knelt beside the prince's chair and put a single hand on the armrest. He needed to get Isa's attention subtly.

Damn it. Damn it, damn it,  _ damn it _ . 

Isa was staring blurrily at his plate by this point, one hand clenching the table tightly as he fought the urge to sway. Breaths were shallow now at best, and every one was forced. How he longed to fall over, gasping, just for the brief relief that the forced rush of air would afford him. 

But that would draw attention, and he was determined not to do so. If he survived this. . . he couldn't give away that he was being targeted. Besides that, he refused to give this pink-haired menace the satisfaction of watching him fall and grovel. 

Isa was a proud man. And, if he fell into the grave today, he would take his dignity with him. 

When Terra first arrived at his side, he hardly noticed over the fog clouding his mind. Keeping proud posture and disposition intact, he turned to the servant with searching eyes, imploring the questions he was unable to say aloud without betraying the severity of his condition. 

He leaned downwards, once again stroking a hand across the other's skin, and tried to listen to whatever he had to say over the sound of his own heartbeat, which was somehow simultaneously pounding and extremely, terrifyingly shallow.

Terra had never had someone's life in his hands before. Even as a soldier, it had never been like this. He would train or fight, but he'd never had the intent to kill. He knew medicines and how to treat injuries, but this was far more than that. The prince was dying. Truly dying before his very eyes. And it was his job to undo it.

He had only watched someone die once before. He hadn't been able to save that person. The most important person. His father and teacher. Now it seemed that his new purpose in life was to prevent the death of another. Someone he hardly even knew but had sworn allegiance to. Part of him became a bit more certain of his purpose at that thought. He refused to see another person die that was in his care. He just couldn't let that happen.

"You need to come with me," he said softly, "I have a solution, but it can't be done here."

Something about this whole situation caused a suspicious glance from the taunting noble. There was something strange about the way that servant was behaving. It was even more strange how the prince reacted. What could possibly be the connection? Yet, as the noble looked on suspiciously, the blonde lady sitting beside him smiled, watching the display as if expectantly. There would be a show. One way or another.

A solution . . . no matter what it was, the prince was likely to take it. No potential solution, regardless of the indignity it caused, would have been worse than dying in public like this, weak and  _ poisoned _ , with the bastard who'd done it staring him down. 

Isa nodded, then took as deep a breath as he was able to muster. This . . . wasn't going to be pretty. Nor easy, but he was left with no choice. One way or another, his departure was going to cause a scene, but likely less so than if he keeled over completely dead in the middle of dinner. 

"Forgive me," He managed to force out in a surprisingly composed and eloquent voice, even if he was speaking a bit slowly. He was addressing the duchess, to which he bowed apologetically. "I've suddenly found myself needing a breath of air -- I'll return momentarily, and must ask that you excuse my sudden departure." 

Without giving anyone a chance to protest, he turned on his heel, feeling the pink-haired man's eyes boring into his back. Fighting hard to maintain his regal posture, and narrowly succeeding, he then followed Terra wherever he was to be lead. 

He'd have explaining to do . . .but at least he'd have the opportunity to explain it.

It would never cease to amaze Terra how quickly a room could go from flaunting chatter to dead silence. It seemed that the moment the prince stood, all the other nobles' mouths clicked shut in exchange for their eyes opening wide. Perhaps the most startled looking was the duchess, Naminé. She looked up at the prince as he left, almost looking anxious about something. Yet, the prince was already gone before she could do anything but nod.

The particularly suspicious noble watched the prince leave with an odd mixture of amusement and frustration. No matter. There was little any would be able to do. So the plan was secured. No antidote existed for what had been done to the prince's food. There was no way the prince could survive. A slow, breathless death. It was almost funny how the prince almost admitted to it. Needing a breath of air. Yes, that was exactly how it was meant to work. The noble would simply need proof before leaving.

Meanwhile, Terra lead the way through the halls, trying to walk more beside Isa to not arouse too much suspicion. But at this point, that may not matter that much. He had to focus more on haste, not appearance. Luckily, it wasn't a long walk to where he'd agreed with the kitchenhead to meet. They had chosen that place for that reason, after all. That and the discreteness of the spot.

He opened the door to a small walled off area. A place where hunting dogs may had once been kept but were no longer there. It was mostly empty aside from grass and a few small bushes. There was a small table placed beside the door, on which was two cups of water, a small pouch, and a spoon. Immediately, he poured the powdery contents of the bag into one of the glasses of water and stirred it.

"This isn't going to be pleasant, but it was the only thing I could think of," he said, "it will.. well.. get whatever poison you ate  _ out _ . But you'll.. probably want this off to have your hair out of the way."

Slowly, he touched the sides of Isa's circlet and the connected ornaments. He didn't move too quickly, lest the prince object, but he also didn't want to move too slowly either. But he carefully removed the headpiece and set it on the table. He nearly reached up to brush the hair out of Isa's face, but he immediately hesitated. That would be.. too much.

"Here. Drink some of this. It... won't taste pleasant, but, well, that's the point I'm afraid. It's the only solution I could find," he said, offering the murky drink to the prince.

There were several times over the course of their venture outside where Isa thought he would fall. He'd thought it hard enough to stay upright when he was  _ sitting _ , which made trying to walk absolute hell. Every step was forced, and took every bit of concentration, breath passing harshly yet shallow through parted lips. 

His throat was entirely numb now and, as soon as they were away from prying eyes, he all but fell against the wall, a hand pressed to his chest as if he could ease the ache somehow. That was impossible. . . he knew it. . . just as he knew the likelihood of Terra finding an antidote was the same. 

The trip through the halls had been a blur, vision now narrowed to a dark and hazy tunnel, through which he could barely make out the light of the outside world around him and the cup that Terra offered. The servant's voice sounded far away, and Isa wondered not for the first time if this was truly the end. 

Drink . . . get the poison  _ out  _ . . . the only solution. Then, Terra was removing his headpiece, and Isa managed to piece together exactly what the servant was referring to. It wasn't going to be pleasant for him  _ at all _ , nor was it guaranteed to work. But Terra was right -- it was the only solution that existed. He had no choice, as much as his pride recoiled immediately from the idea. 

He couldn't die like this . . . not when he still had so very much to accomplish. Not the product of a slow, indirect and cowardly assassination. If there was a way around it -- then Isa had to try. No matter what it was. 

Nodding, and hoping he could feel his throat enough to swallow, he took the cup from Terra with a shaky hand and downed it in a single, horrifically tasting swallow that took every bit of willpower. It wasn't long before the concoction did its job, and the prince's stomach began hurting far more than it had before, throat burning and protesting the intrusion. 

Then, the proud and dignified crown prince fell to his feet and began to retch.

Perhaps Terra shouldn't have been surprised by the prince's immediate agreement and action. He'd expected at least a moment's hesitation for the sake of pride. He was glad for the lack of protest. It had always baffled him how some would refuse a solution for the sake of pride. Finding a way to live was much more honorable than allowing oneself to die. Even if it was sometimes an unpleasant or humiliating method to continue living.

He supposed that was what he had done in a way himself.

Now wasn't the time for such thoughts. He quickly knelt a bit behind the prince, catching the prince's long hair before it fell into his face. As unpleasant this was, it was made far worse when one made a mess on themselves. Plus, if the prince had any intention of returning to the party, he couldn't look as though this had happened. It would arouse too much suspicion.

Once the hair was carefully caught and held in one hand, he gently put a hand on the prince's back. The touch was meant to be reassuring. None were here other than the two of them. No onlookers of either noble or slave. He had ensured that would be the case. This moment would have been hard enough on the prince's dignity, there was no need to make it worse by having an audience.

"It'll be alright, Isa," he said gently, "once it's gone, the effects should gradually fade. You'll be okay. I swear."

He honestly wasn't entirely sure which one of them those words were for.

This was humiliating beyond measure, and Isa's pride was unlikely to ever recover. 

On his knees, emptying his stomach into the dirt, with tears pricking at his eyes and streaming down his face from the stinging pain of unfinished dinner and stomach acid forcing their way from his throat. Could he possibly have sunk any lower? 

_ Only if you'd allowed that wretch to kill you _ , He assured himself as his numb throat somehow found it within itself to burn as his dinner made its reappearance. Any loss of pride was worth the opportunity to survive and put those who opposed him in his place. 

Of course, Isa wasn't certain he was going to survive, even as Terra's attempts to comfort rang dimly in his ears. He was shaking, full-bodily, now, and throwing up had only caused his breath to come shorter. He was outright gasping, short, desperate wheezes in an attempt to take in any air, but his lungs refused to obey him. A string of spit trailing from his lips when the onslaught of sickness finally stopped, he found himself swaying, completely light-headed, and all but collapsed against the man beside of him. 

The world was dark, breath was starved and wouldn't come. . . despite Terra's words, and the attempts to save him, Isa was convinced that he was dying. That's what this certainly seemed like -- and that infuriated him. 

He didn't  _ want  _ to die. He couldn't die. Not like this. 

But, eventually, the world started to come more into focus, and Isa was aware just barely of his heaving chest and the tears that ran, uncontrolled and unabashed, down his cheeks. Even if this was his death . . . as pitiful as it was. . . no one else would see him like this except for his trusted servant.

Duty and respect. Those were the two things that spurred Terra into action. Duty to both the crown and the prince personally to preserve. That's why he had quickly found a way to prevent the prince's untimely death. It had been his duty. His sworn oath. Respect to look away. Even when acting in the best interests of the prince's health, he tried to give the prince the respect he deserved. Which included looking away as something shameful occurred.

He couldn't help, but he didn't have to watch.

When the sounds finally stopped, he glanced up. Just in time to notice the prince about to faint. Quickly, he caught the prince and pulled him away from the mess. He was carefully as he slowly scooted away towards the table by the entrance. It was away from the mess, so neither of their clothes would get dirty aside from bits of grass or dirt. And it was something else important.

He sat the prince up, gentle and slow. He could tell that the other was weak. That was to be expected. It would take some time before the effects of the poison would fade. Not to mention, the action the prince had just performed... took a lot out of a person. And now the prince was on an empty stomach. Weakness was to be expected.

"Hey..." he said softly, frowning a bit at the sight of tears, "you're okay. Now that it's gone, you'll start feeling better. I know you will. I have some water for you. Pure water. If you'd like it. You're completely okay now, Isa. I promise."

Luckily, they were closer to the table now, so he could easily reach over and grab the other glass of water. He slowly offered it to Isa, bringing the glass to the other's lips. The water would help. Get rid of the taste, get rid of the empty feeling, get rid of the weakness a small amount. It was just a matter of Isa drinking it.

After several long moments of breathless gasping, during which Isa waited with quite literally bated breath for the signs of his illness to either dissipate or worsen. It was going to go one way or the other . . . and there was nothing more that either of them could do. 

Terra's words, though distant, were of some comfort. Oddly enough, as was Isa's humiliation -- it prevented the onslaught of any sort of fear. Instead, he remained embarrassed and annoyed, filled with a desperate urge to survive that was more motivated by pride and spite than anything else in the prince's vulnerable state. 

Eventually, breath came easier, the world around him suddenly growing more stable and bright. The dirt beneath his hands, the toxic smell of his own sick. . . and the glass that Terra had offered, brushing coolly against the skin of his lips. Everything was hypersensitive, now, and he could feel himself shaking. 

With only a bit of difficulty, he made an attempt to hold the glass enough to sip at the water, ignoring a brief surge of apprehension that the water itself would poison him again.  _ Terra wouldn't give you poisoned water -- and you weren't even drinking water when you were poisoned. Besides that, there's no taste or smell. _ So the water was drunk, slowly and with protesting throat muscles that were only just managing to come back to life. 

As he drunk, he grew stronger, even if only a little, and soon managed to sit up more on his own. Tingling lungs now heaving with the effort of catching lost breath, he fumbled for a handkerchief and wiped his face clean, then waved Terra off just the smallest amount. 

" . ..Thank you," He murmured, the words coming easier. "My apologies for the distress. I . . . believe I'm alright, now. Thanks to your efforts."

Terra didn't let go of the glass at first. He was sure that ridding the prince of the poison would help, but that didn't instantly cure weakness. He doubted the prince wanted to spill water all over himself either. But it gradually became apparent that the prince was able to manage, so he relaxed his hold. He just wanted the prince to be okay..

When the prince sat up, he shifted, ready to catch the other should he fall. This whole ordeal had him feeling very protective. He had to try and think of every detail. The prince's comfort, the prince's appearance, his own appearance, and everything else. It would be incredibly difficult to explain this situation if they were seen with stains or anything obvious. The last thing they needed was for more complications.

"I wish I could have figured out a better solution," he said while taking the now empty glass from Isa, "but apparently the apothecary was missing and the room was locked. It was either a grand coincidence, or someone planned this. I have no way of knowing what poisoned you either, since it was something you ate. The kitchen staff were cleaning dishes as fast as possible."

He scratched the back of his head for a moment. He was talking too much. But he couldn't help it. After all of this.. his nerves were quite shot. He just wanted to make sure the prince was okay.

"Are you... able to breathe better now? Do you feel it starting to wear off?" he asked gently, looking concerned.

Another few moments of breathing, and Isa was starting to feel more human. The world was coming back into steady focus, and his dignity returned with his strength. Of course, the prince was still weak, but he at least didn't feel on the edge of the grave any longer. 

For a moment, he didn't answer, flexing his fingers and focusing on his breath, swallowing and almost relishing in the feeling of his burning throat. Anything was better than that horrifying numbness. " . . . I believe it is," He answered quietly, voice worn and ragged. ". . . I wondered if it was only wishful thinking, but I believe I'm beginning to recover." Words were coming easier, if slowly --- tongue clumsy, but no longer lead. 

Licking over dry lips, he then shifted further upright, not quite ready to stand. It was probably a good idea not to rush . . . he should regain his composure before reentering the dining hall. Only retrospectively did Terra's words register, and he frowned in immediate concern. 

". . . You're right," He said with a nod. "This was the work of an assassin -- I'm certain of it. I believe I even have an idea of who it was. . . though I have no solid proof. As for the solution, please. . . don't apologize. I mourn the loss of my dignity, but it's allowed me to keep my life, and to win the battle against my would-be murderer." 

Without thinking, he rested a hand on Terra's shoulder, half to brace himself and half as an attempt to reassure. ". . . I saved a bite of food," he suddenly realized. "I was going to give it to you after the party -- it's in my napkin, at the table. Perhaps we can deduce what was used from it."

It was a relief to see the prince gradually improving. The prince's voice was getting a bit clearer. The prince was able to more properly sit up. The prince was able to move his face to express his emotions. Small improvements, to be sure, but still obvious changes. It meant the poison was no longer worsening his condition. It might even mean the poison was completely clearing out of his system, and he was safe.

Terra almost sighed from relief, but it wasn't over yet. There was someone here that had attempted to kill the prince. Surely, an assassin would have prepared a back up plan should the poison fail. Or maybe the assassin would simply try to hide, escape, and try another day. Either way, he needed to be on guard. Hopefully, the assassin wouldn't get desperate and try something impulsive. A desperate man with the intent to harm was a dangerous thing.

When the prince touched him, he was, admittedly, a bit shocked. He held an arm out, sure that being grabbed meant Isa was about to fall. But when that didn't happen, he met Isa's eyes. Then the prince's words set it.

"I could... try to figure out what it was. Assuming the food you kept was the item that was poisoned. Most would be fairly obvious unless mixed in a liquid. Which we know can't be the case since the servants used a pitcher to pour all the guest's drinks. Everyone would have gotten poisoned," he said, thinking through all they knew aloud.

Part of him realized the intention of Isa saving the food. Isa had noticed that he hadn't gotten anything and wanted to try to fix it. The thought honestly made him almost want to smile. He knew the prince wanted to be the best master possible and protect him. But that action hadn't been necessary. Yet, the prince had done it anyways. It was.. touching.

"Are you ready to go back, Isa?" he asked gently, "we can wait here another moment if you need. It's best not to push yourself too far."

Perhaps it was a bad idea to rush back into the fray of polite society, but Isa was quite finished with being weak. He could breathe, see, think and feel, and all of that was plenty enough. It didn't matter if he had a pounding headache, or if he suddenly felt like he could sleep for a week straight without waking. 

No -- the prince was a proud man, and he was going to regain his lost dignity in this very moment. Bracing himself slightly on Terra's arm, and a bit more heavily on the wall, he then forced himself to stand and began dusting off his clothing. 

"I should be alright," He insisted, voice cracking but stronger by the moment. "I'd quite like to see the look on that pink-haired pansy's face when I walk back inside alive and well." 'Well,' in this situation, was relative. 

After ridding himself of debris, the prince then glanced around for his circlet and began the far too elaborate process of settling it over his hair with hands that were still slightly shaking. Frustrated, he glanced over his shoulder at Terra, embarrassed already to have received so much assistance. " . . . I hate to ask anything else of you after this, but might I have a hand? I don't exactly have a mirror."

Terra was immediately ready to catch the prince should he stumble. He honestly hadn't expected the prince to rise so soon. Surely, the prince still felt weak, so why was he moving so quickly? He shouldn't have asked if Isa was ready yet. He should have just waited. Maybe Isa would have rested longer that way. It was too late for that now.

Part of him did also want to see the reaction of their would be assassin. Perhaps it would also help him know who to be wary of. Though, a small part of him did feel smug. He'd outsmarted an assassin. It was one thing to overpower someone in a fight, it was an entirely different thing to use quick thinking to subtly defeat an adversary. He couldn't help but feel a bit proud. Though, he was far more worried about the prince to let it show.

"Are you sure, Isa?" he asked gently. He touched the circlet, fingertips barely brushing Isa's. His expression was concerned, maybe even from more than just a duty to protect. He didn't want Isa to be in danger or hurting. Aside from the risk of death and constant act, he enjoyed the prince's company. He didn't want to lose it.

"Don't feel bad for asking," he said softly while properly taking the ornate headwear, "I'm more than willing to help. Both to guard you and with simpler tasks. It's not like you're asking anything ridiculous or uncomfortable. Just placing your crown back on."

Carefully, he started to place the crown on the prince's head. He'd never thought about how tricky it would be to get the chain netting to sit right. Surely, this was heavy, right? It wouldn't tire Isa out further, would it? He decided not to ask. He doubted he'd get a straight answer anyways. He settled the headwear as centered as he could and took a step back.

"Should we have a story for our return, or do you not think anyone would actually dare to ask questions?" he asked, already trying to think of something. There was the obvious excuse of... needing a moment alone with his servant. But others could also be thought of if necessary.

In all honesty, the crown was heavy. In fact, it felt like it had gained several pounds since this morning when Isa had put it on. As Terra settled it back on his head, Isa barely refrained from swaying, fighting an intense urge to sit back down. 

Logically, he should be taking longer to recover -- but his pride simply wouldn't allow it. Though still physically weak -- remarkably so -- Isa refused to indulge it, and he wasn't going to allow himself to continue in such a pathetic display. 

Something felt odd, and it wasn't only his near death experience. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but it had something to do with the way Terra looked at him, and the tone in his voice. It bespoke . . . concern. A sort that Isa hadn't felt directed at him before. .. something that seemed to go beyond simple sense of duty. It was unfamiliar, jarring, and ultimately ignored.

Making a few final adjustments to his clothes, he thought through what Terra had asked. Logically, there was only one reason as to why he'd have taken his servant outside with him. . . but it wasn't something he'd announce at this sort of dinner party, even if he  _ had  _ actually done so. "I don't think they'll dare to ask," He replied with a shake of his head, then regretted the motion as it caused the world to spin. "If they do, I'll be. . . suggestively vague." 

Hopefully his return was uneventful. As much as he wanted to see his would-be assassin's reaction to his reappearance, it wasn't likely to be taken well or simply. Regardless, there was no putting it off any longer. As if he wasn't the one who'd just almost died, he glanced over his shoulder at the other man and asked "Shall we?"


	14. Chapter 14

The worry didn't fade, even as the prince tried to act unaffected by the past events. It was obvious that the prince was shaken. One didn't just walk away from a near-death experience. The first time an assassin came, the prince hadn't been able to sleep afterwards. Now this.. would it frighten the prince out of eating? It was an understandable apprehension, but eating was a necessity. Terra would have to anticipate that potential fear somehow. But nothing else was being eaten at this party. He could agree with that if the prince made that decision.

He quickly went to the prince's side, though just a step behind him. 

"I am ready to go if you are," he said, leaving the opportunity open for the prince to take a moment longer to rest. He hoped the prince would, but he found it unlikely. It was becoming increasingly clear that this was a matter of pride for the prince. It was stubborn and a little foolish, yes, but he couldn't stop the prince's pride.

So he simply followed, quietly telling the prince which turns and which corridors to take to return to the dining hall. Once they entered, he wilted a bit, giving the appearance that he was... worn out. It was better for all at the party to make that assumption than ask any questions. Though, it was unlikely that any would ask questions. Few dared to question the prince on anything.

He waited until the prince sat back down before returning to his spot on the floor. He tried not to glance around. That would be suspicious, but he had to make sure the assassin wasn't going to try anything more direct at the table.

Not that the noble would dare.

Ever since the prince had left the room, the pink-haired noble's feelings went from smug to suspicious to apprehensive. The prince hadn't been too far from death, so why hadn't any servant come in with the announcement? Surely someone would have let it slip if the prince had died. Unless the prince hadn't died. But that wasn't possible. There was no antidote for poorly preserved food. The things that festered when one didn't properly store food weren't curable by medicines. He had even prevented medicines from being obtained just in case!

So when the prince returned, looking far less pale, the noble's gut churned with anxiety. He hadn't exactly been subtle. Curse his need to gloat. The small, cruel giggles of the blonde lady beside him didn't help in the slightest. Now what was he to do? If the prince knew he had been poisoned, he wouldn't eat anything else. He'd have to rely on the backup plan... which was far too showcasing for his tastes.

"Back so soon, your Highness?" he said, trying to sound entirely unaffected.

Despite the would-be assassin's -- for Isa was certain now that's what he was -- best efforts, Isa could read the apprehension and confusion on his face as he made his sudden reappearance. And that look was just  _ exquisite.  _

It was worth any loss of pride to see the confusion in those pretty blue eyes, and that gave Isa all the energy he needed to lower himself elegantly back into his chair. The walk back to the table had taken a lot out of him, lungs and body still weakened, and he'd had to fight the urge not to swoon. With a bit of effort, however, he managed to appear entirely outwardly composed, despite the lingering symptoms of his near-death experience and subsequent unusual cure. 

"You speak as if you wish I were gone longer," he replied, tone teasing but with a hard edge that showed he definitely knew what he was doing as he met the pink-haired man's eyes, his own stare unyielding and boring deep into the other's soul. "I only needed to catch my breath after such a lovely dinner . . . it's been simply to die for." 

He then, rather pointedly, avoided eating a single bite for the rest of the meal, only pushing his food around on his plate. It was likely that more of the dishes were poisoned and, even if they weren't, Isa was certain his nerves wouldn't allow him to eat regardless.

Luckily, the rest of the meal continued without incident, and Isa slipped Terra the occasional grateful glance as conversation resumed only a bit hesitantly. So caught up was the prince in his relief, satisfaction, and lingering illness, he made a critical mistake. 

That the blonde woman next to the would-be-assassin didn't look at all put out by his reappearance. She looked glad, but it wasn't the sort of happiness that came with relief or concern for one's safety. No -- not at all. 

She looked  _ hungry. _

The dinner could not end soon enough in Terra's opinion. The sooner this dinner was over, the sooner they could get back to the castle, and both of them get real, non-poisoned food. Maybe he'd get a chance to investigate the food Isa had saved as well. If there was a clear source to the poison, they could either properly accuse the most likely suspect, or they could ensure they had the antidote for it on hand should the same poison be tried again. He likely ought to get a medicine kit anyways... just in case.

He kept his eyes on Isa, looking for any signs of lingering poison or new ones. Nothing showed. Yes, the prince still looked weak, but he didn't appear to be wasting away as he had before. It appeared as though all the poison had been removed. Or, at least enough of it that his body could destroy the rest. That was good. 

He had no idea what he'd do if the prince died. Likely, he'd be killed himself upon return to the castle. But that didn't matter to him. He'd rather the prince be alive and safe over his own health and safety. He wasn't sure why. Likely his strong sense of duty.

Just duty.

The noble was doing very poorly at concealing his emotions. He looked, for all the world to see, like an ambitious, seasoned lawyer that was being bested by some impulsive, loud-mouthed amateur lawyer that knew nothing at all. It was infuriating. He wanted nothing more than to slam his hands on the table and demand an explanation. Or perhaps object to this whole affair. There was no possible way the prince could be alive right now! The prince had already been half dead before leaving!

"I simply... expected you to take your time returning, your very royal Highness. Most do when they leave with their servants," he said, trying to be at least a little smug, perhaps even irritate the prince. Maybe not the best plan, but he was far too infuriated to care. Not to mention.. he'd need to keep his.. companion in check.

The pink-haired assassin was in for quite the job, considering his companion was already shifting restlessly in her seat as if she'd like nothing more than to lunge across the table and attack the prince directly. One of her graceful hands had pulled a knife from the table, which she twirled by her side, fingers restless and practiced in motion. It would be so easy . . . a flick of her fingers and she could have the blade embedded firmly between those pretty seafoam eyes. 

But they were surrounded, inside, and she'd easily be caught. Time to bide her time, then . . . there was no other choice, as much as she hated it. So she'd wait, for now, and try to keep her restless energy contained. 

Fortunately, the prince was far too distracted by her partner to notice, and couldn't quite suppress a thrum of pure rage at the implications of the gentleman's statement. It didn't matter that was the façade they were supposed to be portraying . . . that anyone would suggest he do such a thing to Terra was still outright insulting. 

Forcing his rage down, he clenched a hand in his napkin where he'd stored the saved morsel of food, then carefully shifted it into his lap to tuck away into a pouch on his belt. "I didn't want to miss the party," He insisted with a plastered, empty smile. "I can play with this dear thing any time, but the duchess only has a birthday once per year. Tell me . . . " 

A thought had occurred, and his eyes narrowed where they were fixed with the other man's across the table. ". . . How was it that you knew her?"

The comment put Terra on edge, but that was what he'd wanted. After all, if anyone assumed anything else took place, they were doomed. So he stayed quiet, noticing the prince hide away the napkin. That must have contained the food. Once in the carriage, he could examine it more thoroughly. As for the prince's answer... he ignored it. It was likely better that he did.

The knife being toyed with immediately caught the would-have-been-assassin’s attention. If she got them caught, he might just poison her himself the next opportunity. At least, he would if he had the heart to. No matter how reckless she behaved, he couldn't bring himself to lose his partner. So, he would have to keep her calm until the right moment.

He subtly nudged his partner by stepping a bit on the hem of her dress. Hopefully that would distract her some. She needed to be patient. And subtle. Like him.

At least until the prince asked that question. For a moment, his eyes flashed something far more dangerous than poisons or secrets, but he quickly schooled himself. Subtle.

"I can't blame you for not knowing, your Highness. After all, I've been out of the country for some time. I'm a relative of the duchess'. I was so fortunate to arrive here back in time to celebrate. It has been so long since we've last gotten to see each other. Isn't that right, my lady?" he said, eyes turning to Namine as he finished speaking.

"Yes, of course," Namine spoke up softly. It was only then that it was apparent that she had hardly spoken the entire dinner. Hardly even eaten anything either. Her eyes nervously glanced between the two men before looking a tad more fearful at the woman. She looked back down at her food quickly.

As the hem of her dress was stepped on, the blonde woman's smile suddenly grew a great deal more forced. Subtly, she crossed one leg over the other, knife stilling completely in her grip. The next moment, she was striking, as swift and elegant as a snake, and impaling that same dagger into the chair directly between her partner's legs. An impish grin then spread across her features as she delicately retracted her hand, the motion unnoticed by the rest of the party, and took up her napkin, with which she dabbed at her chin. 

All the while, those piercing green eyes never left the prince -- that was, until the duchess spoke. Then, that smile was turned on her, and the blonde woman gave a near imperceptible shake of the head before languidly taking a sip of her wine. 

Isa, unfortunately, had missed the exchange. The prince had been focused far too much on the look between Naminé and the pink-haired gentleman, and had once again looked over the blonde completely. Brow furrowed, he made an attempt to meet Naminé's eyes, frowning a bit when he failed to do so. 

"Forgive my ignorance," He continued, not sounding at all apologetic, "But I've made it a habit to memorize the lineages of all of my allies, and I don't recall anyone matching your description. Pray tell me, what exactly was your name and title?" His tone was polite, but with an underlying note of danger. With luck, he would back the assassin into a corner.  _ Just one little slip _ . . .that would be all he needed to justify an arrest.

Had it not been for the frequency of such near-stabbings, the noble would have flinched. However, by this point he was unfazed by her clear sign of displeasure. She could be as irritated as she wished. The point of this was to be subtle, not stare at the target with near tangible bloodlust. Her time to attack wasn't until later, so she would simply have to put up with being patient.

Just like he would have to deal with remaining civil.

"Lord Lauriam of Annslace, your Highness," he said, subtly removing the knife from his chair and crossing his legs, "it's a private estate quite a distance away, so very few have heard of us. But I remember in my youth coming here and spending time with my beloved distant cousin. We were almost like siblings. Being separated for so long pained me, so I simply had to attend this party."

Naminé caught the blonde woman's eyes and immediately looked anywhere but at her. Perhaps it was a good thing she was already a quiet person by nature, for now it wouldn't be suspicious to just.. stay quiet. She pushed food around with her tableware, looking far more like a caged bird than as a noble celebrating her coming of age party.

"Yes, and I'm... glad you're here," she spoke softly, not looking at anyone as she slipped back into silence.

Something else was wrong. It was obvious to Terra that were was more going on than just a noble attempting to poison the prince. Lady Namine seemed... frightened. He couldn't tell by what, and he had no way to find out. He had a very limited view of the table and any of the other guests sitting at it. Especially with the large displays of candles and flowers in the middle of the table. He could barely even see the pink-haired bastard that had attempted to poison the prince in the first place.

He just had to be on guard. There was nothing else he  _ could  _ do. Be on the lookout and be ready to defend.

Naminé's behavior wasn't noticed only by Terra. The blonde girl was always shy and reserved, but this was an entirely new level -- Isa had never seen her quite like this before and, now that he paid attention, there was clearly something going on with her that he hadn't noticed earlier in the evening. He'd been so distracted by his own frustrations and trying to protect Terra. He was a fool, and it had nearly cost him his life, and god knew what it had already cost Naminé. 

The prince was seeing red, now, jaw clenched and hands curling into fists beneath the table. Though he'd already been slighted more than once, and the attempt on his life had enraged him, it was nothing when compared to the thought that this  _ bastard  _ had done something to frighten or harm Naminé. What Isa wouldn't have given to call for his guards to drag the pink haired man away. . . 

But he couldn't. The prince's hands were tied by convention. This Lauriam, whoever he was, was incredibly well spoken, and clearly had his story planned out perfectly. While Isa doubted the legitimacy of his claims by more than a little, there was nothing outwardly glaring or wrong that he could use to implicate the bastard. 

Nodding and pretending to sip his wine, he instead took a deep breath through his nose, then once again tried to catch Naminé's gaze while continuing to address the man across the table. 

"I can't say that I have heard of you, nor your estate," He replied. "How was it that you regained contact with the Duchess, exactly?" 

Damn it -- it was taking every bit of Isa's willpower, now, not to lose his temper. This bastard to threaten and attempt to claim his own life as much as he wanted -- but Isa would be  _ damned  _ if he let an ally be threatened, yet alone one so young and demure.

Lauriam had more than a story planned out. Every possible thing had been accounted for. No amount of questioning could faze him. And while the prince managing to survive his poison had been.. off-putting, he was relaxing again. This was why the plan included.. insurance. It wasn't often that they got such a high-ranking target, so they had to be doubly sure to take him out.

No matter what happened, he could keep his composure and win this game. Round one had gone to the prince. Round two would end very differently. It was simply a matter of finding the right moment to let his companion loose. For lack of a better expression.

"We're a far more private branch of the family, your Highness," he said smoothly, "as for when we reconnected, I suppose you could say it was fate, or luck if you believe in that more. This is the generational home of this part of the family, after all. I made a hopeful guess and came here a short while ago. When I heard it was nearly time for Lady Namine's birthday, I simply had to stay until then."

"Yes, it's been.. a wonderful week with you here," Namine added. It was better this way.

Then, perhaps though fated mercy, the duchess's father stepped into the room with a herald. There was an announcement about leaving for the gardens before bidding all their guests farewell. Doors were opened to lead the way outside as servants waited for the nobles to leave to clean the dinning hall. It didn't take long for the guests to begin to file out, not waiting for the prince or even the duchess to do so. All of them far to caught up in their haughty conversations to care.

Terra took that as his cue to stand. He didn't see any guests that looked suspicious, but he could tell that something was wrong. The duchess.. looked far too scared for something else not to be wrong. But what?

_ Damn it --  _

A low, angry growl rose and died in Isa's throat as he found his interrogation interrupted, and his hands tightened into fists.  _ Damn it. _ He had no choice but to follow along, even as his frustration seethed within him, threatening to overcome him in a burst of anger. That was  _ far  _ too convenient a time to be interrupted, and it didn't help his mood that he hadn't been graced with any proper acknowledgement of sendoff. Not that it mattered, in the scheme of things, but to have his authority so overlooked on an already horrid evening was insulting beyond measure. They hadn't even allowed  _ Naminé  _ to speak. 

Speaking of the Duchess, there was no way at all that Isa was leaving her alone. Glancing briefly towards Terra and trusting he would follow, Isa rose in as dignified manner as possible and made his way to the duchess, eyes still fixed on the pink-haired gentleman and almost daring him to come into the girl's presence. There was no way that Isa was daring to leave her side until he saw that bastard depart, and knew for certain she was safe. 

Whispering small talk to the girl as they departed, he offhandedly acknowledged few others, lingering far longer than he ordinarily would have at the party. On any normal occasion, Isa might very well have been one of the first to depart. Now, he wasn't setting a single  _ foot  _ in his carriage until he saw that Lauriam had left first. 

Unfortunately, Isa never had noticed the gentleman's companion, who was now very much absent from the scene. He was far too caught up in glaring down Lauriam himself while guarding the duchess, anger and protectiveness having gotten the better of him. 

She was waiting, giggling at the back of the crowd -- overlooked, and waiting for her opportune moment, akin to a coiled snake.

It was a bit of a convenient time for a change of scenery, wasn't it? Perhaps it had been fate. Or maybe intentional, if the nervous glance of Namine's father was any indication. Someone clearly wanted this party to be over. Lauriam couldn't blame him. So many rude guests. He, himself, wanted this night over with. But there was one more thing he was meant to do.

It was obvious that the prince was attempting to protect someone. Whether it was himself through proximity with the duchess or the duchess herself was unclear. But it hardly mattered. There was always an opportunity, and the snake was already prepared to strike. He had no need to worry. 

But.. he would need to continue the plan. This was the one thing he disliked about the backup plan. Always just in case he was found out. He would have to leave... and trust that she would find her own way back in time. She always managed to come back. He would simply need to have faith that she would again this time.

So, after a round of false pleasantries and an all too formal farewell to the duchess, Lauriam left. A large, elaborate carriage arriving to pick him up and take him back to wherever he had come from.

Just as the prince had remained with the duchess, Namine remained nearly glued to the prince's side. Even after Lauriam left, she stayed close, looking around for something but not seeing it. She couldn't do anymore than act pleasant and like nothing was wrong. Even though everything was wrong. She hated it.

But there was nothing she could do.

Terra followed behind the prince, only allowing just enough distance to be considerate of the conversation between Isa and Namine. Something still felt wrong. He had no idea what. Even as Lauriam left, which he carefully watched, the feeling didn't dissipate. There was something in the atmosphere that warned of danger. But from where?

That tingle in the air was felt by Isa himself, as well. Even as he watched Lauriam climb into the carriage, the chill running down his spine didn't dissipate, every muscle just as tense and on guard even now that the danger was supposedly gone. 

He stayed there, watching as Lauriam made his final goodbyes and his carriage started away, then dimly noted he was one of the few people remaining aside from the duchess herself. At least -- that's what he believed. 

Forcing a breath and dismissing his feelings as pure paranoia, he gave Naminé a bow and begun to bid farewell. "Thank you for the invitation, milady . . . " He said politely, trying to keep the nerves from his voice. The bastard was gone -- they'd be safe now. It was over. 

Only, it wasn't. For as Isa turned away from the departing Duchess to start towards his own carriage, Terra faithfully at his back, the coiled snake decided to make her move. The prince had made a deadly mistake by staying so late, and he was going to pay. Stalking silently, the blonde woman watched from the shadows with glittering eyes, tossing a knife in her grip. 

She watched. 

Then -- an opening. 

A terrifying, demented grin split the woman's face as she launched herself from the shadows, knife aiming directly for the prince's unprotected back.

They were leaving. Everything would be better once they got in their carriage and left. The sooner they got to the castle and ate some proper, non-poisoned food, the more pleasant it would be for everyone. The threat was gone, for both the prince and the duchess, so it would be okay to just rest for the remainder of the evening. 

At least, Terra hoped so.

The carriage was coming to the base of the steps, and he allowed himself to relax a little. There were barely people left here. Certainly none he had seen as a threat. Though, the duchess's nervous look when the prince had been saying his goodbyes... It confused him. The danger was gone. What more did she have to fear?

Then, he heard sudden, quick footsteps. Light and hard to notice if one was not trained to do so. Immediately, he turned his head, taking in information far too quickly to process it. There was someone charging towards them, no, charging towards  _ the prince _ with a knife. He couldn't notice anything else, being far too focused on the approaching weapon.

Almost on instinct, he raised an arm and immediately pushed the prince out of harms way. The woman didn't stop her attack, and he had been too slow to dodge it completely. The knife cut his outstretched arm. Not deep enough to be considered a major wound, but enough for it to immediately begin to bleed.

The moment the woman had followed through her attack enough to be past his body, he grabbed the armed wrist, put a hand on her back, and pushed. He quickly swept her leg out from underneath her and continued to push until the attacker was on the ground. He continued to hold her in place, keeping her hands restrained.

Shock and adrenaline caused him to pant harshly. He kept his focus solely on the woman he was keeping pinned. She was  _ not  _ going to get an opportunity to escape. He refused to let that happen.

The realization as to what exactly had just happened settled over Isa incredibly slowly, almost as if he was happening to someone else, or as if he was watching the exchange from the distance provided by a dream. 

He'd turned, hair stirring in the rush of wind that had come with the quick attack, just in time to see Terra taking the woman to the ground. He only had a moment to process that fact alone before he registered the glint of fading sunlight on metal. A knife. This woman had tried to stab him, and Terra had done his job, protecting him. 

It said something as to the sort of week Isa had been having that what he felt, more than anything, was exhausted, coupled with a faint thrum of an almost mild annoyance. 

". . . Another one, is there?" He hissed as he moved to Terra's side, glancing around to see if anyone else had seen them. Fortunately, the cursing and flailing would-be assassin seemed to have done her job well, at least in that respect. The only people there were Terra, Isa himself, and the carriage driver, who luckily seemed preoccupied. 

Moving to the back of the carriage where luggage would be stored, he removed a length of rope and tossed it back in Terra's direction. It wasn't as if Terra could just  _ hold  _ the woman all the way back to the castle, nor was it possible to let her go or end her life. Besides any morality that went along with that notion, there was a distinct possibility that the captive would prove useful. 

She was, however,  _ pissed _ , and was currently attempting to bite Terra's arm. Without a word, Isa proceeded to gag her with his handkerchief, cutting off a stream of curses, and began securing the rope around her wrists. "Help me tie her --" He said, tone matter-of-fact and tired. "We'll throw her in the dungeon when we get back to the castle."

The first thing Terra did, which really had to be the priority, was get the knife out of the woman's hand. It had not been easy, especially with her violent struggling and his wounded arm. Eventually, he managed to disarm her and toss the knife far enough away that it wouldn't be an immediate problem should she get loose. Though, that was unlikely to happen so long as he was pinning her. He was much larger than her and could keep her down indefinitely.

Shifting while still keeping the would-be assassin pinned, he helped the prince bind her wrists. Briefly, he thought that a rope wouldn't do much if she had another knife that she could gain access too. So, as delicately as he could, he searched her for any other weapons. It was hard to politely search a lady for weapons, and it honestly made him a small but uncomfortable. But it had to be done. However, he decided to focus mainly on checking her arms and back.

"Your Highness," he said, glancing at Isa, "as far as I can tell, she has several knives hidden on her person. There are likely more than I'm finding now."

To show his point, he simply reached up her long, draping sleeve and near immediately pulled out two sheathed knives. He put them down beside the prince before doubly ensuring that she was secured, holding her wrists to avoid her managing to get a knife.

This woman.. where had she come from? He didn't remember seeing her at the party. At least, she hadn't been actively involved. Was she a separate assassin? Or was she associated with the other one. He doubted he'd be allowed, but he wished he could interrogate her. Well, maybe Isa would allow him to in the carriage. Though, the prince likely had many questions of his own.

It had been far too long of a day. Every muscle in Isa's body hurt, especially his abdomen, and he had a headache to match. His throat was dry, he'd nearly died, and on top of everything else he was simultaneously hungry and nauseated. 

He had no time nor energy left to be polite, and he was confident in the notion that his touches came from a place of necessity. There existed no reality on earth in which he wanted to grope this woman. 

With a slight role of his eyes, he managed to pull a knife from her back, as well as the center of her chest, all while she continued to kick and curse beneath Terra's form. Every blade was tossed to the side before being gathered and shoved into the main compartment of his own carriage. 

"Toss her into the back -- " He ordered bluntly. "Before the driver notices. I don't want to have to explain this. We'll lock her inside, and deal with her later. I --" He paused, then, and blinked, suddenly having an entirely new reason to feel angry. 

"You're hurt," The words were softer, accompanied by a brief reaching towards Terra's injured arm. Steeling himself once more, the prince then shook his head. " . . . Help me get her into the luggage compartment. Then I'll take care of it for you."

For a brief moment, Terra found himself shocked and a small bit horrified by the prince's forward removal of knives. He'd always been taught to never do anything remotely close to that to a lady. Even if the lady was trying to kill someone. It was just manners and polite and all sorts of upstanding things to avoid that.

But he supposed it was sort of necessary.. they didn't want her to escape or have a weapon. He allowed that thought to comfort him. It was easier to allow that to happen with that logic behind it.

He was just about to follow the prince's order, though he didn't know how he was going to get a screaming, struggling lady into the luggage compartment, when the prince pointed out his injury. He hadn't even thought about it. But it did hurt. It complained at his efforts to lift and restrain their prisoner. It bled onto the expensive fabric. It couldn't be helped, but it was a bit of a shame.

"It's only a shallow cut, your Highness," he assured the prince. It may have been more than shallow, but it wasn't life-threatening. Maybe a scar would form. It didn't matter much to him. So long as he survived.

He loaded the would-be assassin into the luggage space. It was by sheer luck that the carriage driver wasn't paying attention.

After assisting Terra in shoving the writhing assassin into the compartment and shutting it -- all while she spat curses through her gag and glared at Isa with venomous eyes -- Isa let out a heavy exhale and momentarily rested against the carriage. 

. . . An  _ incredibly  _ long day. 

It took only moments to compose himself, then he was all but Tugging Terra in the direction of the main carriage door, sitting down beside him on the same side as the wound. Without hesitation, he drew his knife from his belt and tore off the rest of the sleeve of that horrid doublet. It would not be missed. 

Quiet, with an aura of frustration, but with his hands moving surprisingly gently, he removed a handkerchief from his belt and began to clean the wound. There wasn't any way to dress it, here, but he could at least keep it somewhat sanitary. He wasn't about to lose his protector to infection. 

. . . Yes, surely that was the only reason he cared so much that Terra had been hurt, the offense somehow frustrating him more than his own near death experience.

It was clear to Terra that the prince was at the end of his patience. Not that it could really be held against the prince. Few would be in the best of moods after barely negating death twice in one day. Especially when the day was supposed to be a day of celebration. Regardless of one's feelings towards parties, they were supposed to be more enjoyable than that.

He allowed himself to be moved, getting into the carriage. He readied himself mentally for the long trip back to the castle. Then he was taken by surprise. The prince had dragged him down into the seat with him. There had been another seat facing where the prince had sat, so why was he being made to sit beside the prince?

Admittedly, the knife near his arm put him on edge, but his nerves faded when it was only the sleeve that was cut. He was confused by the prince's actions, but he knew he wasn't in danger. The prince had never given him a reason to feel unsafe. Any action that had ever been remotely harmful had only been for show. Nothing that ever truly caused damage. That wouldn't suddenly change now.

But he didn't understand why the prince was... caring for him like this. It wasn't any sort of life-threatening injury. So why was the prince pressing his own, ornate handkerchief against his cut.

"You don't need to do that, your Highness," he said, looking confused.

Of course Isa didn't  _ need  _ to. He hadn't  _ needed  _ to do a great deal of things involving Terra, including saving him from decapitation now multiple times. But if he hadn't, Isa would have been dead at least three times over by now, which gave some sort of testament as to doing things one didn't  _ need  _ to. 

"You are one of my people, and under my protection and watch," The prince replied, more than a little blunt and frustrated. Not at Terra, of course, but rather the entire exhausting situation. "I will tend to you -- as much as I can now, and then thoroughly once we're back in my chambers. 

With practiced, practical movements made as gentle as he could, Isa cleaned the wound before tying another kerchief around Terra's arm as a sort of bandage. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than leaving the wound exposed. 

Without another word, he then let out a slow, forced breath and leaned backwards in his seat, eyes falling closed. His head felt like it was about to split open, and his stomach still twisted and complained over its earlier abuse. If he hadn't known better, he might have wondered if he was still dying . . . in some respects, it certainly felt like it. 

The prince was too exhausted to move to the opposite side of the carriage, nor did he make any move to encourage Terra to do so, either.

While Terra still wasn't entirely comfortable with the prince mending his injuries, he couldn't exactly protest. The prince's argument was sensible. The wound needed treating. And, technically speaking, he couldn't object to the prince anyways. Though, he knew that the prince wouldn't enforce anything unpleasant. The prince was just caring for a wound that he gotten protecting the prince. Even if it wasn't the prince's job to mend it, he appreciated it.

Part of him couldn't help but admire the prince a bit for this. The prince had just survived two assassination attempts, yet Isa was more concerned with a minor wound he'd sustained. Isa truly did care about the wellbeing of his people. Even to the point of being willing to aid someone socially beneath him in a direct way. Not to mention how surprising it was for Isa to know how to care for people in this way. It was incredible.

Noticing the prince lay back, he called to the driver to depart in a quieter manner than he would have otherwise. It had been a very long day. The prince deserved some rest. Even if the carriage wasn't always the most comfortable place to do so.

The prince wasn't going to move to the other seat so... should he? It felt like the more socially appropriate thing to do, but.. what if something happened. The prince had already been attacked twice in one day. What if there was a third? He needed to stay vigilant and at the prince's side. Yes, that was the only reason he wanted to stay beside the prince for the carriage ride back.

Head pounding, stomach churning, and exhaustion setting in now that he was finally in a safe environment, Isa found his body going laxer against the carriage's seat cushion. It was unconscious, and he couldn't have maintained his royal posture if he'd tried. Not after doing so for so long, even as death breathed down the back of his neck. Not after everything that had happened. 

What of Naminé . . . ? Was she alright? He was certain the would-be-assassins had been threatening her. He'd have to reach out to her again, soon . . . in addition to seeing what information he could gain from their captive. . . whom gods knew what they were going to do with. 

It was all too much, and made Isa's head pound far more. Grimacing, he let out a huffing breath and tried to pry his eyes open, only to realize that they refused to comply for more than a crack. 

It was pleasantly dark inside the carriage and, as it started to move, Isa realized he found the rocking motion soothing. That, and Terra was warm at his side. . . 

. . . Terra was safe. . . a consistent and dependable presence. He'd only proven that more so today. 

Terra was safe. . . which meant Isa was safe. 

The thought registered dimly in Isa's addled mind, which he hadn't even realized was slipping away. Lips parting, he let out a shaking but relieved rush of air, and something within him that had been stretched far too thin reached a breaking point. 

Perhaps it was the stress. Perhaps it was the result of one near death experience, or the other. 

Either way, Isa had fallen asleep, muscles relaxing for the first time in quite a while as his body gave in to exhaustion. Eyes falling shut completely, his mind slipped from the world, and he fell slightly to the side, head resting lightly against his servant's shoulder.


	15. Chapter 15

The day had truly been eventful. A party by itself would have been enough excitement for Terra, especially in his odd position. But so much had happened while they were then, he could hardly process it all. The party had started alright, if not interesting due to the beautiful decorations that he liked looking at. But it had quickly gone downhill. There had been that stranger that had tried to touch him before the prince intervened. There had been that frustration from the shallow conversations around him. They had almost gotten caught in the garden. Then the prince nearly died at dinner, and when they had avoided that death, someone else tried to  _ stab  _ the prince.

No rest for the weary, huh?

At least it was all over now. They could relax on their way back to the castle. Once they got there, both of them needed to eat. Something proper and not poisoned. Part of him was worried that the prince would refuse. It would be hard to trust food shortly after it nearly caused death. But the prince needed to eat. How would he go about this..? Perhaps.. ensuring that it was uncontaminated personally? Or having someone the prince trusted to fix it? Either should work. Maybe both combined.

His thinking distracted him from the world around him for a moment. He was only snapped back into reality when he felt something touch his shoulder. He glanced over to see... the prince. The prince was leaning against his shoulder, eyes closed and breathing more even. Was the prince asleep? That would certainly make sense. It had been a tiring day.

But what should he do? Should he move and lay the prince down properly? No, the carriage seat wasn't wide enough for that, and he might wake the prince in the process. The prince deserved some rest after everything that had happened. So what did he do..? Well, there was only one option: resigning himself to be used as a headrest. He didn't mind, but it was unexpected.

As gently as he could, he settled in the seat so that the prince could lean against him more comfortably. He stared at the prince.. Isa. Isa looked a lot more peaceful when he was sleeping. More relaxed and calm. As if, for once, Isa didn't have the weight of heavy chains on him anymore.

For some reason, his mind drifted to perhaps the one good thing of the evening. Their momentary break in the garden. Making Isa smile and laugh. Walking along the cobblestone path. Seeing a beautiful variety of flowers. Soft music in the background. An offered hand. A gentle guiding. A secret, wonderful dance. Staring into the prince's eyes. Tripping on his feet. The prince catching him. Then --

Suddenly, his face felt a good deal hotter, and he raised a hand to gently trace his lips. Isa had.. kissed him. It had just been for show because of the approaching servant, but it had been... different. Somehow. Gentler than the other time that particular performance had occurred. Almost like.. it had been wanted.

He had wanted it.

He shook his head slightly at the realization. No. He couldn't think like that. Isa was the prince. He was a soldier at best, but, by all other eyes, nothing more than a plaything. He shouldn't let himself get caught up in fantasies and feelings. It had probably just been a fleeting heat of the moment feeling anyways.

Rest wasn't something that had ever come easy to the prince ordinarily. He had a great deal of work to do, and tended to sacrifice his own leisure time to complete it -- all before this business with assassins had started. Since then, it had only gotten worse, his sleep fitful at best and existing at all only because of Terra's presence. 

Exhaustion had been long in coming, exacerbated by near death experiences and bodily stress. Now, Isa was lost, entirely against his will, in a deep and dreamless sleep. It was much needed rest, indeed, and he couldn't have pulled himself from it if he'd wished. 

Not that he honestly did. Dimly, in some distant state of consciousness, Isa felt a sense of comfort he wasn't often afforded. Safe. . . warm . . . why  _ was _ that? 

Breaths passed even through his lips, hitching only once as he shifted position. Without waking, his eyelashes fluttered and he adjusted his position on his makeshift pillow, resulting in his inadvertently nuzzling Terra's shoulder. 

Unaware that he wasn't on his bed, a hand raised to fist in the "covers," leaving him clinging to the front of Terra's doublet.

When the prince stirred, Terra snapped out of his thoughts. Was the prince waking? Would the prince be bothered that he hadn't moved? Would waking up like this embarrass the prince? He hoped not. It would likely embarrass him too. What should he do? What should he -?

The prince wasn't waking up. Isa had just been.. settling. Getting comfortable. In his sleep. He let out a relieved breath. He didn't know why he was so nervous about Isa waking. Maybe because the prince needed the sleep. Yes, that made sense. It had nothing to do with his hot cheeks and wondering thoughts.

Neither were his next actions. It was simply his duty to carefully pull Isa's cape over him like a blanket. It was necessary to keep the shoulder Isa was resting on perfectly still. There was no other reason for him to carefully remove the heavy, metal headwear so it wouldn't disturb Isa's sleep. It was his responsibility to gently brush the hair out of Isa's face and tuck it behind Isa's ear.

He found his gaze lingering on the prince, but this time.. he let himself drift into the thoughts with no resistance. He wasn't sure why, but he hoped, one day, that he could dance with the prince again.

They stayed in these positions until they reached the castle. Luckily, Terra had known they were getting close by occasional glances out the window. He mostly stared at Isa. For some reason he just couldn't look away, constantly shifting to ensure Isa was as comfortable as possible as he slept.

But now they were back. No longer in their calm little world of their carriage. They had things to attend to. Like eating and sleeping in a bed.... and dealing with a potential assassin. He wasn't sure how they would deal with that, but they needed to figure it out. Unfortunately, that required having the prince conscious.

"Isa," he called softly while nudging his arm, "Isa, we're back to the palace. Wake up."

While not a predictable man in the vast majority of respects, prince Isa held one reliable consistency. It was one that Terra had likely picked up on even in their brief time together, as it never failed to make itself known in the slightest. 

That fact was that the prince did  _ not  _ enjoy waking from slumber. Least of all at a time like now, when he'd been driven to such a point of exhaustion already. Hence, why he woke up with a grimace and an unrestrained groan, lifting himself from Terra's shoulder as if his body weighed a million pounds. 

The annoyance was so great, in fact, that he didn't notice the position in which he'd been sleeping, focusing instead on muttering an order to the carriage driver to take them around to another entrance, closer to that of the dungeons. Once there, he ordered the man to depart, insisting he'd take care of the horses himself. 

Rubbing his eyes wearily, he then all but fell out of the carriage and made his way to the compartment in which they'd shoved the assassin, trusting that Terra would follow. ". . . Let's get her into the dungeon, then," He muttered. "Then get inside. I don't have the energy to deal with her any longer -- into a cell, and then hopefully we can make it inside without being seen." 

It was likely a wishful thought, but it was luckily late enough at night that not many people remained about. "If anyone asks, she's a simple thief."

Terra truly felt bad about waking the prince. It had been a long day, and the prince deserved to simply forget it all and rest. But there had been no other choice. At least the prince hadn't seemed bothered about  _ how  _ he had been sleeping. Whether it was from not noticing how he'd been sleeping or not caring, he didn't know. But he wouldn't bring it up. Just in case.

He followed the prince out of the carriage. He raised an arm, ready to catch the prince, but it was unnecessary. Gently, he placed the crown and ornamentation back on the prince's head. It would be best if the prince wasn't seen without it. Though, he got the feeling the prince wouldn't enjoy wearing now.

It wasn't too difficult to haul their prisoner from the luggage compartment, but she did not seem very pleased. Like a wasp that had been trapped in a jar as a child violently shook it. Luckily, she was still bound and gagged. That would help prevent most problems. Now they just needed to get her to the dungeon without causing an uproar.

Which is easier said than done.

"Yes, your Highness," he said while guiding their prisoner towards the dungeon. Hopefully this would go without incident.

It wasn't exactly an enjoyable time getting the still incredibly angry woman into the dungeon. Fortunately, Isa wasn't the sort of person to watch Terra suffer through the ordeal alone. What would he have done? Hung back and simply watched as Terra was kicked at? 

He'd been given momentary pause when he'd found his crown replaced -- when had it been removed? Had Terra . . . ? -- but he quickly shook the feeling off, having far more important things to do. 

It took all of their combined strength, Terra on one side and Isa on the other, with the assassin's arms held tightly between them, to get her inside. All the while, she flailed, feet more often  _ off  _ the ground than not, head butting back and forth in an effort to cause whatever damage she could. Ultimately, however, she was powerless, and the look in her eyes reflected that. She was completely, utterly, and entirely  _ pissed _ . 

But eventually, she was led down dank and cold stone steps into the depths of the dungeons. An unpleasant place, to say the least, and Isa didn't envy her at all. There didn't appear to be any other prisoners. . . so what had become of Isa's previous assassin was uncertain. He'd painted a story that the man was a simple thief . . . but Isa's father never  _ had  _ held any mercy. 

No prisoners, fortunately, meant no guards, but that also mean there was no one to guard the current prisoner. No matter -- they could deal with her more thoroughly in the morning. Isa had no patience at all to do so, tonight. The woman was left bound, tossed inside one of the smaller cells, and the heavy door locked behind her with the key moved far out of sight. 

". . . That's enough excitement for one evening," Isa finally muttered, turning away from the cell without a second look and starting the journey back to the main part of the castle. " . . . Thank you for your assistance. Now, I require silence, and for the love of god no more  _ assassins _ ."

Terra wholeheartedly agreed with the prince's statement. There had truly been far too much excitement for one evening. In fact, it had been enough excitement to last an entire month. Hopefully they would get a week's rest before the next stressful event took place. He was far too tired for anything sooner, and he hadn't been the one that had almost died.

Part of him was relieved to see the prison empty. That meant no hateful or bitter glances from former fellow soldiers to feel boring into his back. Out of all the people that believed that he had ended Eraqus, soldiers were the worse. They would glare with intentions so clear that he could nearly hear himself being dragging into the dungeon and beaten.

But it could be dangerous to leave her without a guard. What if she had another knife? She could escape and attack someone. They needed a guard posted to prevent that from happening. This woman seemed far too skilled in the art of patience to be no longer considered a threat.

There was nothing he could do about it, though. So he simply decided to trust in the iron and stone of the dungeon walls. Hopefully, that would be enough.

"Yes, your Highness," he said while following Isa closely, "whatever you wish. A calmer night is in order."

In this one aspect, at least, the gods appeared merciful. No further events transpired as the pair made their way back to the prince's chambers, not a single soul passed aside from the occasional servant and the guards that were positioned at the end of the hall. It was ironic, their placement there.. . . three times now that Isa had almost died, and they hadn't done a lick of good. 

Upon finally shutting the door to his chambers behind them, the prince seemed to deflate. All outward clothing and finery was immediately stripped away and placed in its proper place, with the bare minimum amount of care. Afterwards, he sunk onto the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, having placed the handkerchief wrapped bite of food on the bedside table. 

The prince had a dilemma. He was hungry. He knew  _ Terra  _ was hungry, yet he couldn't bear the thought of asking for food. He could bear the thought of  _ eating  _ even less, and the very idea turned his stomach into knots. 

Left with no choice, he rang for Xion and called for her to bring a bit of cheese and bread. Dry goods -- nothing anyone would have to prepare. And in the hands of  _ Xion _ , who he'd long since decided to trust. 

. . . It was alright. It would be alright. 

The girl worked quickly, and a package was delivered soon, to which Isa muttered his thanks and apologies for disturbing the handmaiden. The package was then placed on the table, and Isa waved a hand towards it before reclaiming his position on the edge of his bed. 

". . . Eat your fill," He muttered. "And rest. Gods know you've earned it."

Safe, behind closed doors, Terra relaxed as well. He had never been more grateful to simply be walking with the prince. No one would interrupt the prince while he was on the move. Plus, it seemed that most people were elsewhere. It was almost as if the universe was giving an apology for all the near tragedy it caused earlier that day. He only partially appreciated it. He was too tired and weak from hunger to really care.

He wasn't entirely sure what to do with the fanciful, and now partially torn, clothing. He certainly wanted  _ out  _ of them. At least there were things he had within his trunk that functioned as nightclothes, being looser in nature. Of course, they were still somewhat for show, but it was better than anything else he could have worn at the moment. But he didn't change yet. There was something more important.

Seeing the prince sitting on the bed, clearly stressed and tired, worried him a bit. Especially when there was food on the table. Surely, the prince was hungry..? He knew he was, but the prince should be as well. Anything he had eaten at any point of the party would.. no longer be within him. An empty stomach. So why wasn't the prince eating?

He felt as though he knew. At least, he had a fairly good idea. He approached the prince and carefully sat on the bed beside him, leaving plenty of space between them. 

"You need to eat too, Isa," he said gently, "I know you're hungry. So, please, eat with me."

Of course Terra would have noticed. . . Isa was a fool to think otherwise. It was odd. . . no one else in Isa's life had paid him this much genuine attention. This feeling was entirely new, and the slightest bit unsettling. Isa wasn't sure what to do with it . . . 

. . . Especially when he knew he couldn't do as Terra asked. The thought of picking up  _ any  _ sort of food . . . even something as simple as what Xion had brought . . . was impossible. He would chew. . . and swallow . . . 

And then his tongue would go numb, and he wouldn't be able to breathe, or taste, or feel, and soon the world would go dark completely, his mission failed and -- 

He forced a shaking breath, then shook his head. "I've lost my appetite," He muttered. "Being poisoned will do that to you, I suppose, as will retching out your insides. I'll be alright, but I doubt you've eaten all day -- so go ahead." 

For half a moment, his heart jumped with fear of even allowing  _ Terra  _ to eat, but he already knew this was illogical. It was the same food they'd eaten just yesterday . . . no one had died. The only person to touch it had been Isa's handmaiden, who he trusted with his life. But . . . he still couldn't do it. He simply couldn't let himself. That didn't mean he had to make Terra suffer, with him.

Just as Terra had feared would happen. It had been the same with sleep after the first assassin. The prince was scared. Scared that the event would repeat, and he'd be on the verge of death once more. He couldn't blame Isa for being scared in that way. Helplessness... was a horrid feeling. He knew all about what it was like to feel helpless, though, in a different situation.

But the prince still needed to  _ eat _ . It was a necessity of life. The prince couldn't just stop because he was afraid. Some fears could be avoided, such as heights or water, but this one simply couldn't be. Surely, there had to be a way to comfort Isa in this? Still his fears at least enough to eat something small and drink some water. There had to be.

An idea came to mind, and he quickly retrieved the bread from the table. Yes, it would be plain, but he was too hungry to care. He doubted the prince would either. Hopefully, this would work. After all, the prince was insisting that _ he _ eat, but he was afraid that he, himself, would get poisoned.

"If I may.." he started gently, "I know some about poisons. And, bread is very difficult to get poison in. If one puts a poison in before, it can be nullified or weakened when baked. If applied after, it's obvious and doesn't absorb into the bread unless it's moist. Which would also be obvious to see."

He tore off a small piece of the bread and showed it to Isa more closely. "This is dry and there's no discoloration. Not to mention, it was made by servants that are all loyal to the crown. No one here would want to poison you. Only outsiders," he said gently.

"I can prove it to you. If I eat it first, then you'll see that it's okay, right?" he said while pulling it a bit closer to himself.

So Terra was going to persist . . . of course Terra had decided to persist. He cared about Isa's health far too much -- it wasn't like his life was currently in danger. He wouldn't fade away completely from skipping one meal . . . though, granted, it was unlikely that Isa's fear would fade before it came time for his  _ next  _ meal, either. 

But Terra should be focused on feeding  _ himself  _ . . . Gods, had he eaten at all today? A brief breakfast before they'd left, perhaps . . . but nothing at all at the party. Isa suddenly felt incredibly guilty, and more so now that Terra was still refusing to leave him alone and take care of himself for once. The prince wasn't in danger -- at least, not of any significance. 

Yet, Isa hung on every word, apprehensively glancing down at the bread that Terra offered as if he might see some of that discoloration for himself. But . . . it looked safe. Right? There was no way it could have been poisoned. No one who  _ would  _ poison it here. . . 

Yet, when Terra started to bring it to his own lips, Isa felt his heart rate spike, and he called out " _ Don't _ \--" One hand raising and latching onto Terra's wrist before he could stop himself. The next moment, he pressed his lips together shamefully, realizing how foolish he was being, and gently let go. 

" . . .Sorry," He muttered, then, glancing away. ". . . Go ahead. But only because I want you to eat." It was fine . . . the bread wasn't poisoned. . . Terra wasn't going to be hurt. Nor would Isa if he chose to eat it. 

It was all just fine . . . right?

In all honesty, Terra had been surprised when Isa grabbed him. Maybe he shouldn't have been, but it had been so sudden and sharp that it had caught him off guard. So his theory had been right. Isa was so worried about history repeating itself, of one of them getting poisoned. Scared to the point that he was unwilling to eat. There was no doubt that the prince was hungry, but the prince simply couldn't let himself eat.

How to fix that?

"Isa.." he said gently, lowering his arms and looking at the prince, "I want you to eat as well."

It had been a rough day for the both of them. The party by itself would have drained them of energy and strength, but adding the two assassination attempts only made it worse. They were both exhausted, and it showed. He, himself, felt weak. He hadn't eaten since the morning before they left. It had been such a long day since then. Any energy he gained from the breakfast was long gone.

But that wasn't important at the moment. He'd been trained to have enough self-discipline to abstain from eating long enough to do this. Because the prince  _ needed  _ to eat. He had to find a way to get the prince through the fear. After all, any food Isa  _ had  _ eaten was... no longer within him. Not to mention, purging your body of food was exhausting by itself. That plus the other events of the day had to have the prince feeling weak. He couldn't have that. He couldn't let the prince fall asleep like that.

"You are going to eat first," he said while holding the loaf towards Isa, "I will not eat until you do. Any amount aside from a crumb."

He straightened his back and squared his shoulders. He was serious and unwavering. The prince  _ would  _ be eating.

Unfortunately, the prince was an incredibly stubborn man and, faced with such a serious order, became somehow more determined not to back down. HIs eyes narrowed to a glare, lips pressed into a thin line, expression hard and cold enough that it likely would have sent anyone else fleeing for their life. 

Of course, Terra likely knew him well enough to know that Isa wouldn't hurt him without due cause, and trying to get Isa to . . . well,  _ eat _ , wasn't near enough cause to do actual harm. That didn't mean that Isa was any more likely to give in. 

"Don't be an idiot," He snapped, arms crossed over his chest. "You haven't eaten all day, and you need it more. Besides that, I've already told you that I'm far too nauseous to stomach food at the moment due to that concoction you put down my throat earlier. Additionally, if the bread  _ is _ poisoned, I doubt you truly want me eating first." 

He squared his own shoulders, staring back resolute and eyes piercing despite the shadows and red rims they'd taken on over the course of the day. "I'm not a child. You're my guard, not my mother. Now eat. That's a direct order."

Terra had often been warned of his stubbornness. He'd always struggled with choosing which hill to make a final stand on. By which it was meant, he chose every hill to die on. Even for simple things, he would be unwavering in his thoughts. He'd been told many times by Eraqus not to make every small disagreement into something great. Not every molehill needed to become a mountain, and not every opinion needed to be contested. It had always been something he'd struggled with.

Just as he was struggling with it now. The potent feeling roused in his heart and caused his mind to be entirely firm and resolute. Any time his stubbornness was contested, it came out far more strongly than other times. No matter what, he absolutely refused to back down.

Which was why he did something that shocked even him. Something he would have never done in normal situations. A mix of emotions went into him actually saying this. Stubbornness and pride certainly, but also a bit of defiance. Yet they all came from a place of concern. He could see through all of the prince's excuses. He wanted to object to each one. He was used to getting infrequent meals from solder training. Plain bread would help settle the stomach. If the bread was poisoned, would the prince want  _ either  _ of them eating it?

All of this culminated into a single word. A word he would have never dreamed of saying to a member of the royal court, much less the heir to the entire kingdom. But it was coming out of his mouth far too quickly.

"No," he said firmly, looking Isa in the eyes. He said nothing else but raised a hand again to give Isa a bite of food.

It was extremely rare that someone ignored what Isa had told him to do. There was the odd act of rebellion or slight, of course, from some ignorant and awful court member. Isa  _ hated  _ his orders being ignored or pushed to the side but, in those situations, he had no choice but to hold his tongue and seethe . . . biding his time. 

Of course, that only applied to those who held power. Anyone Isa held power  _ over  _ would never dare to defy a direct order and, if they did, a glare or biting remark was enough to put them in their place. If warranted, he wouldn't hesitate to retaliate against the treatment as appropriate, though he wasn't nearly as cruel as the rest of his court. This hadn't actually been a problem fro him, however. . . servants  _ always  _ did as he told them. 

So that little word, the little no, was an outright slap in the face, and Isa was momentarily stunned out of his frustrations. He stared at Terra, eyes growing a bit wide, and was silent for several moments. That Terra had the  _ audacity  _ to refuse him was completely infuriating. 

. . . But, beyond that, it was startling, and there was something to it that was almost. . . reassuring. Terra cared enough about Isa's own physical health to stand up to him about it, and there wasn't a shred of fear in his gaze. 

Isa remembered when Terra had acted like any wrong action would have him beheaded at any moment. He'd been timid, terrified, and would have never  _ dared  _ to say that word. It had been somewhat of an awful feeling . . . to hold that much power over another, simply out of fear. 

Terra didn't appear afraid, now, and that had to be because he knew that Isa wouldn't hurt him. Especially not for trying to show him care. 

That was. . . 

Well, Isa didn't know what it was, but his hand was slowly moving to take the bite of bread. Against his better judgment, he raised it to his lips, nibbling the slightest bit on the edge and feeling his stomach turn with hunger and nausea simultaneously.

For a brief moment, fear pulsed through his heart. Terra had done the one thing that none would dare do, especially not one in his position. Even if the prince wasn't as cruel as many others in the royal court, there would still likely be consequences for direct, bold defiance. The prince looked shocked, as if he had just been struck. There was no way he was getting out of this without some form of punishment, even if it was something comparatively minor.

But he didn't allow the fear to show in his eyes. Disciplining his emotions had been one of the first things he had learned after telling Eraqus he wished to become a soldier. Eraqus had warned him that warriors often saw things, horrible things, that could break a spirit or drag someone into the pits of sorrow. So one had to learn to keep his emotions still within his heart, not to let them show in the moments of fear or danger. All so, even in the face of fear, he could press forward.

He prepared himself for whatever response the prince had to give. It was most likely anger that would be coming. He watched the prince's face, waiting to see eyebrows coming together and lips forming into a scowl. But neither of those things happened. The prince reached for his hand, and, for a brief moment, he expected to be grabbed. But he wasn't.

The prince had taken the bread. No words. No signs of anger. Only shock and a silent compliance. He hadn't expected it at all. Yet... he was grateful for it. At least the prince was eating. Even if just a little bit. It seemed that any potential punishment would come later, if ever.

"Thank you, Isa," he said gently, hoping that would encourage the prince to continue eating. True to his word, and perhaps because he was tired of waiting, he tore off a small piece of bread and ate it himself. He fought not to give into the hunger insisting he eat the entire thing as quickly as possible. Isa needed more than one small piece.

From the moment that the bread hit his tongue, Isa's body started to scream. He'd been starving, of course, and weak, which made the food like nectar. The stress that had come with expelling and recovering from his near poisoning had completely depleted him of energy, and he'd clearly needed food to replenish it. 

But the fear remained, and it took him far too long to chew and swallow, even as his body begged for the nourishment that came from even a  _ bite  _ of bread. He'd chewed slowly, putting off the moment for as long as possible. Then, ignoring his paranoia that told him to avoid it at all costs. . . he swallowed. 

For a few moments, he held his breath, certain he'd feel his tongue start to numb. But no numbness came. No shortness of breath. No poison. He was alright. . . of  _ course  _ he was alright. 

A relieved, unrestricted breath made its way past his lips, and he watched with satisfaction as Terra ate, as well. Unfortunately, that single bite had awoken Isa's appetite, and he couldn't be content with the small morsel he'd managed to get himself to eat. 

Slow, cautious, and with a lingering aura of carefully silent pride, he reached out to break another piece off, himself, and brought it to his lips while looking Terra dead in the eye.

Had this been Aqua or Ventus, Terra would have acted a bit smug. It was simply part of being a stubborn older brother to them. He'd always been the one to win a test of wills between the two of them. Whether it be with Aqua over what area of the forest they'd explore as children, or getting Ventus to take his medicine despite his hatred of it. He'd always been stubborn, but he knew how to use it in good ways.

Just as he was doing now.

He didn't let any of his victorious smugness show lest the prince stop out of spite. It was unlikely the prince would do that, but it was possible. Especially since Isa seemed to be as stubborn as he was. There was no need to risk his victory over gloating. So he kept his expression neutral, but he didn't look away from Isa's eyes. He wouldn't be prideful, but he wouldn't back down either.

Part of him was more relieved than smug, in all honesty. The prince was actually eating. He'd feared that no amount of coercing could sway the prince. That their combating stubbornness would make them both go to sleep hungry and likely end up irritable towards the other. Luckily, that wasn't the case. Now was just a matter of making sure the prince  _ continued  _ to eat. Which was much easier to do after the first bite is taken.

As Isa grabbed another bite of bread, so did Terra. Perhaps to reinforce his stance. He would only eat if Isa did. It was simple. But he also couldn't look away from those eyes. Strong and determined... even when giving in the slightest amount.

This silent exchange of power was the most interesting thing that Isa had experienced in his entire life. It was a silent debate -- a trade -- and he knew that as he held Terra's eyes and watched him chew. 

That's what it was, then. Terra would only eat if Isa himself ate first. Clearly, that's the statement that Isa was making. It was working. If left to his own devices, Isa would never have eaten. No amount of orders, or begging, or anything else would have swayed him. 

But, now . . . he was eating to prove his point, and to make sure that Terra would do as he promised. He was eating so that Terra would eat, and the stubborn servant had figured him out completely. 

A bite -- another -- again and again, they took turns biting off pieces of the bread. All the while, Isa didn't speak, nor did he look away from Terra's eyes. He hadn't won this battle. . . not completely . . . but neither would he  _ lose  _ it. 

Soon, he was focused far more on Terra and his stubborn pride than worrying about his throat going numb. He could breathe perfectly fine, and the exhaustion started to fade -- bite by carefully exchanged bite.

Between the two of them and their odd competition, they had eventually eaten the loaf that Terra had been holding. He was still hungry, and he partially wanted more than just bread. But this wasn't about him. It was about making sure the prince ate his fill of whatever he was willing to eat. It made sense that the prince had only asked for dry foods in the first place. Wet food was easier to poison in most cases. So he would work within Isa's comfort zone. Even if it wasn't the most satisfying meal.

He could endure it. He had been trained to be a soldier, after all. Had he ever been sent off to camp elsewhere for a battle, he would have had to live off far less desirable things then the soft, perfectly made bread of the castle. So this was good, only plain. And plain was what the prince needed at the moment. He would provide it.

There was a brief thought that passed through his head. The prince was only eating... because he had insisted that if the prince didn't eat, neither would he. Did the prince care enough to overcome his fear in order to ensure he was alright? No, that was ridiculous. Any reasonable person wouldn't want another person to starve themselves. Still, there was a part of him that was touched. He couldn't explain why.

Silently, he rose to get another piece of bread for the both of them. Maybe he should get the prince some water as well. One thing at a time. He couldn't press too far lest the prince resist it. The prince certainly seemed to have the willpower to do so.

It was an odd thing, to feel so coddled and cared for. Isa was reminded of the first night that Terra had saved his life. . . he'd stayed up with him, lain with him, and had given him water. It was a level of genuine care and attention that Isa wasn't often shown. 

He didn't care for it at all. 

But, for some reason, he could tolerate it coming from Terra. At least, in this moment. Perhaps he was simply too exhausted to put up a fight. But, when Terra returned with more bread, he ate a bit more before his stomach started to protest, and he eventually shook his head. 

"Now I truly  _ am  _ too nauseous to continue," He muttered, resting a hand on his stomach. "I'm likely to make myself throw up again if I try. Please -- finish it, yourself."

When the prince stopped grabbing food, Terra hesitated, looking at Isa with an edge of concern. Though he was grateful that the prince had complied so far, the prince hadn't eaten that much. Surely, it hadn't been enough? He, himself, was still hungry. But he didn't want to continue if the prince was hesitating due to fear. Wouldn't the fact that they had eaten without repercussions so far be comforting?

Then the prince spoke, and he listened intently. Ah, he supposed that that made sense. There would be a point that Isa wouldn't be able to eat anymore. That point likely came sooner due to all the stress his stomach had been through that day. He couldn't force the prince to continue to eat in good conscience. But what should he do..?

He was used to caring for others. Being the eldest of three when their father was frequently gone during the day tended to do that. He'd often be the one told to ensure the house and his siblings were safe and cared for. Feeding them, making sure they stayed close, caring for Ven especially. He was used to this role. It was natural to him.

"Are you certain, Isa?" he asked gently while holding the bread towards Isa. He continued to eat, but only with small bites. Just in case the prince wanted more.

If Terra didn't stop being quite so. . . attentive, Isa was going to develop an even stronger migraine than he already had. He was stubborn -- pushy, resilient, and far too concerned with Isa's health, even for a guard. 

It was insufferable. 

. . . It was comforting. 

Why the hell was it comforting?

Having to look away for some reason, Isa shook his head, then gently pushed Terra's wrist back towards himself. "I'm certain -- that's enough, thank you. Now, eat. . . please. You'll need your strength if we're attacked again." 

It was something that, admittedly, was weighing on Isa's nerves, and being back in his bed wasn't helping. There was one comforting thought, however -- that he wouldn't be in that bed  _ alone _ . 

**_Why the hell was it comforting?_ **

That point, Terra had to concede to Isa. It was true. If they were attacked again, he would need the strength to defend the prince from it. He doubted that they would be attacked again, but the day had already proven eventful. It would be best to be prepared. The last thing either of them needed was to feel weak and unable to function should another crisis come up. If the prince couldn't stomach anymore... then he should ensure that he was physically ready himself.

A bit hesitant, he ate the rest of the bread he had been holding. He couldn't say he was entirely  _ full _ , but he didn't feel like eating much else. Perhaps that was due to the stress of the day catching up to him now that all semblance of danger was gone. The energy that came in the tense moments was long gone. Now he just wanted to lay down and rest. Though, he wasn't entirely sure if he could sleep.

"Are you ready for bed, Isa?" he asked gently, looking at Isa with a small tinge of concern, "we'll both need rest."

He got the feeling that Isa would be resistant to sleep as well. Just like Isa had been on the night he'd first been attacked. Too scared to sleep... fearing another killer would come to finish the job. After getting two assassins in one day... it would make sense if Isa was paranoid about another coming.

Truthfully, Isa very much  _ was  _ afraid to sleep. But he couldn't put it off tonight, especially with the exhaustion that was wearing him down. In fact, he was nearly shaking, simply with the effort of keeping himself upright. 

Which made Terra's question both easy and impossible to answer. 

After taking a few sips of water from the glass he'd set on his nightstand -- pure willpower keeping him from throwing it right back up -- he nodded. "Yes, I believe so . . . " He muttered, already starting to shift backwards on the bed. "I'll survive for a moment while you ready yourself --" 

He then spared Terra a glance and snorted at his appearance. "I can't imagine you want to sleep in that."

Terra had been so focused on ensuring that the prince was taken care of that he hadn't considered himself. Least of all his apparel. He was still in the gaudy, over padded, and slightly torn formal wear from the party. Now that he was aware of it, he desperately wanted out of it. It was horrible. How had he been able to breathe like this?

"No... no, I do not," he said while moving to stand. Luckily he had already pulled out more comfortable clothing, or, at least, the most comfortable that he had possession of. He walked over towards the privacy screen that separated a small part of the room from the rest.

Perhaps a bit subconsciously, he reached behind him to begin unfastening his top. Only to suddenly feel a sharp pain through his arm that prevented him from reaching it. The unexpectedness of the pain dragged out a sharp gasp. He quickly lowered his arm, holding the place he had been stabbed while defending the prince. Apparently the damage affected him more than he thought.

Now what was he to do? He couldn't get out of this easily without unfastening it. And... it didn't seem like he could. His arm refused to be contorted in any way. Not without hurting. So what was he supposed to do? Push through it? Or... ask for help?

The second was embarrassing, but it may have been his own choice other than simply tearing the thing. He bit his lip nervously before walking back to the prince.

"I... I can't undo it," he said quietly. He didn't like this, but he didn't really have a choice. Maybe he should just act like it was a hot day at home. When he didn't care to have a shirt on while going to the river to swim with his siblings. Maybe that would help. ....It didn't.

Right as the prince had begun to lose himself in his exhaustion, starting to lie down on the bed and not think about anything but the sheets beneath him for several hours at least, he hears his servant speak.

He couldn't undo it . . . ? Undo what? All manner of scenarios that Terra could have been referring to ran through Isa's mind, each as likely as the last, before Isa finally realized what exactly Terra was referring to. This happened only as Terra approached and Isa managed to take note of the nature of his doublet. His doublet. . . and Terra's wound. 

"I'll assist -- no matter," He murmured, then forced himself to his feet -- swaying only slightly -- in order to step closer and gently turn Terra around. Standing close enough that he could see in the dim lighting, he unlaced the back of his servant's clothes until it was loose enough to slip free, then slid the horrid clothing item down the other man's arms. Terra hadn't asked for help with the latter part, but Isa didn't want to risk him irritating his wound. 

He'd felt a bit odd for a moment, standing so very close to Terra's back . . . but he couldn't put his finger on why. Well, it was no matter at all -- the doublet was off, now, which meant that Terra could finish undressing and they could both go to bed.

Terra was already regretting asking for help. Not only was it concerning when he saw the prince sway upon standing, but there was also the fact that he was asking for assistance undressing. Officially speaking, the roles should have been reversed, regardless of his injury. But that wasn't the main issue.

The main issue was how hot it suddenly got. Embarrassment and shyness pulsed through him as the prince nudged him to turn around. This was all sorts of shameful. Firstly, he couldn't even undress himself. It was a simple enough top to put on, and he wasn't  _ severely  _ injured. He should have been able to do it himself. Secondly, what right did he have to ask the prince for help in this? It was ridiculous to think, he knew it, but the thought persisted. The prince had helped him in other ways but this felt more...

...personal.

Perhaps that was what affected him the most. Yes, he had been shirtless in front of the prince before, but it was another matter entirely for the prince to be the one disrobing him. The only person that had ever done anything close to this had been his father, and that had been when he was still a child unable to do it himself. So to have someone unrelated doing this, standing close to him in a quiet, dark room, just the two of them... It caused his heart rate to skyrocket, even without thinking about the possible implications.

He stood perfectly still as Isa worked, staring straight ahead with an intensity that would make most people uncomfortable. He could feel everything around him. Barely, accidental brushes of the prince's fingertips. Soft, almost even breaths moving across his skin. An odd warmth that he had no real way to describe, but it felt distinctly... human.

He hadn't expected further help but didn't resist. Once it was over, he attempted to regain some form of composure. He didn't quite look at Isa yet, but he glanced that direction. "Thank you," he said quietly before stepping towards the privacy screen.

He got changed into the closest thing to nightclothes. It was strange... his mind was wandering so much. Having Isa so close... brought back the thoughts of dancing and... the other thing. He needed to control himself. It was inappropriate to think about those things. He couldn't dwell on them. So he forced them all back before stepping back out.

"Sorry," he said, not entirely sure why he was apologizing, but he felt the need to. He carefully sat on his side of the bed, a little hesitant to lay down.

Even through his haze of exhaustion, Isa couldn't deny there was something oddly . . . intimate about the action. He'd never helped another person dress or undress before, and he'd never appreciated having it done to him. The act was incredibly personal, and had always left him feeling vulnerable. . . 

He couldn't begin to imagine how someone like Terra, already in such a vulnerable position, might have felt. For that reason, he tried to be as respectful as possible, silent and quick in his movements and endeavoring not to touch too much of Terra's skin -- although a few touches couldn't be helped, try as me might to keep his fingers isolated to laces. 

Part of him felt ill. . . guilty. Suddenly, Isa was reminded of what had happened earlier, before the distraction of his near death experience. He'd kissed Terra. . . and he'd enjoyed it. Now, he'd begun to undress him, and he was feeling the same thing. 

Did that make him horrid? Was he turning into the sort of horrid person he'd long since despised? 

The thoughts were too much, especially for now, when he was already so warn down and tired. Exhausted, yet somehow tense and wired, he curled up on his side of the bed, as still and rigid as a board despite the softness of the material in which he lay. 

Yet. . . he relaxed the slightest bit when he felt Terra sit down. Why was that? If only he'd had time to reflect. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder a bit in confusion when he didn't feel Terra settle down completely, frowning when he saw the other man was still sitting. 

". . . It's alright," He muttered, voice half groggy with fatigue. "Come on, then . . . lie down and rest. It's been too long of a day to stay up any longer."

The prince was certainly right about that. It truly had been too long of a day. Endless hours of posing at a party. A confusing, brief break in the garden. Two attempts on the prince's life. And now a myriad of thoughts that wouldn't let him relax. Thoughts ranging from fear of another assassin to the feelings that had come from their moment in the garden. Why did it all have to happen in one day? He couldn't process it all.

But Isa's tired words were enough to persuade him. He set aside those thoughts and feelings for now. He could think them through in the morning. At this moment, he needed rest. As did the prince. There was no reason to stress the prince out of sleeping when he was having the confusing thoughts.

He carefully laid down in his place on the bed, trying to get comfortable without moving too much. He ended up facing Isa. It wasn't difficult to figure out a way, but he felt the need to keep an eye on the prince. He was tired of assassins. None were going to come and harm Isa. He wouldn't allow it. So he needed to watch Isa to ensure safety. Yes, no other reason.

"I agree," he said softly, "you need your rest too, Isa."

He doubted he'd be able to sleep much himself. Yet, laying on the plush mattress with soft pillows surrounding him, it was too easy to relax. Sleeping in a bed of luxury so unfamiliar, yet he welcomed it entirely in this moment. The comfort was... well... comforting.

Terra was right, of course. Isa  _ did  _ need his rest. Even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't have resisted the pull of exhaustion, no matter the fear and frustration that still lingered within his mind. 

As he felt Terra lay down behind him, he didn't even feel any fear. Well, maybe a slight start, but for the most part the other man's presence caused him to relax, melting further into the covers. 

Every muscle like lead, eyes slowly drifted shut. The prince was beyond ready to leave every bit of today behind him and start anew in the morning. 

As he felt his consciousness start to slip away, one last thought crossed his mind, and Isa found the words slipping, unbidden, from his lips. "Thank you . . ." Only two words, and not enough, but he meant them. 

He truly couldn't think Terra enough for everything he'd done. . . nor could he apologize enough for everything that Isa had done  _ to  _ him.

The words caught Terra off guard. He didn't deserve to be thanked. It was just his duty to protect the prince. Even if he wasn't truly a soldier anymore, he bound himself to that. He'd even promised Isa specifically to guard him. There was no need for him to be thanked for what he was duty-bound to do. He certainly didn't want any thanks. Not for doing the bare minimum.

He didn't respond to the words. It didn't seem like Isa would have heard them even if he had. It was clear that the prince was too tired to do anything else. He could already hear Isa's breathing getting more even and deep, signs that Isa was asleep. Good. Isa needed it. He needed it too. Even if he was on high alert. He needed to relax.

It took awhile for him to fall asleep. He kept an eye of Isa the entire time, just ensuring that the other was safe and still asleep.


	16. Chapter 16

Once he was asleep, however, something happened. Something felt wrong. As if something bad was happening. It wasn't enough to wake up fully, but he needed to  _ find  _ something. Someone... that needed protecting. Where was that person..? He needed to make sure they were safe. They were going to get hurt again, and he was supposed to protect them.

He shifted around the bed, searching for whoever he felt this protectiveness for. When his hand touched another body, he immediately moved to latch to it. An arm going around the other person's waist, and his chest being pressed against the other's back. This seemed to relax him, and he settled. Oblivious as to what he was truly doing.

**_No._ **

Arms, around his midsection. Dragging him backwards, sliding up to his throat, where they'd tighten the wire around his windpipe and slowly crush the life from him, all while Isa was helpless to stop it. 

The panic was immediate, and Isa woke with a start, immediately scrambling for the knife under his pillow. The only time he'd ever been touched in his sleep was when he'd nearly been murdered and, in his sleep-addled daze, he could do nothing but assume the worst. 

Hand coiling around the weapon, he let out a weak, dazed cry, and tensed -- only to realize that he could breathe perfectly fine. Panting, he went rigidly still, managing to note distantly that whatever was holding him hadn't made any move to crush. It was simply doing just that. . . holding him. 

Breathing harshly, senses coming back to him, he tentatively removed one hand from the weapon and to the arms around his waist. Not crushing, or grabbing. . . 

Holding. 

It was only then he remembered that he hadn't gone to bed alone, and the realization of who those arms must belong to hit him suddenly. Terra -- it was only Terra. 

The realization caused him to fall laxly onto the bed in relief, a shaking breath escaping his throat. It was only Terra holding him . . . but why was Terra holding him? 

Was he awake? Should Isa pull away? What if Isa woke him up? 

Uncertain what to do, the prince simply lay there in his own confusion and residual fear.

The sudden movement and noise, unfortunately, did rouse the man in question. It was only slightly, bringing him out of unconsciousness into a half-awake daze. He wasn't fully coherent. There didn't seem to be a need to be, and he had had such a long day already. No one could blame him for sleeping so deeply, though, he would scold himself later for it. He was supposed to be guarding.

"Wha.. is it.. Aqua...?" he muttered, the words almost slurring together. Very much asleep and feeling comfortable holding someone, he thought he was at home, sleeping in the same bed with his sister. It was a fairly common think for them, especially when either of them were stressed or had had a nightmare. It was simply comforting to have another person there while sleeping.

But something was a little... off. Whoever he was holding was... a good deal broader than Aqua. And there was... a lot more hair in his face than normal... And Aqua wouldn't have stirred like that...

...This was not Aqua.

Suddenly, Terra snapped awake and nearly fell off the side of the bed in his attempt to get as much space as quickly as possible. What was  _ wrong  _ with him?! He had really been  _ holding the prince in his sleep. _

"I-I'm sorry. I must have moved in my sleep. I didn't mean to!"

Oh man, this was as embarrassing as it was terrifying.

The frantic note in Terra's voice managed to rouse Isa a bit, and he blinked blurrily as he turned over onto his back, propping himself on an elbow and watching Terra panic. That reaction seemed. . . a bit extreme. 

Especially when Isa. . . well, he hadn't really minded the hold. Not that he could even begin to understand why. But something about it had made him feel . . .safe, in a way that he hadn't since the night the first assassin had come to take his life. 

"It's alright. . . " He muttered slowly, trying to get his thoughts in order. "You act as if you've done something wildly inappropriate. It's not against the law to  _ touch  _ me . . . " 

Well . . . it sort of was, but that was besides the point. 

Tired, and a bit shaken, himself, Isa then laid back down. After a moment of silence, during which his sleep-addled mind took over, he muttered something he might not have otherwise had he had his full faculties. " . . . I didn't mind. You can . . . if you want to . . . "

The irony of the prince's words were not lost on Terra. It was very much against the law to touch a member of the royal family. Especially without any semblance of permission while the person was asleep. Such an action could get him thrown in prison or even executed, depending on the mood of the nobility. So in many ways, his reaction was justified and nearly expected.

Until Isa said his last sentence.

The prince.. didn't mind..? Even more than that, was the prince  _ asking  _ for him to return to that position? Well, at the very least, the prince was saying that he could, if he so desired. That completely caught Terra off guard. It was such an unexpected request from the prince. He hadn't the slightest idea of how he should react to it. Did he roll over? Did he hold the prince? What should he do?

After a moment of settling his heart rate, he at least laid back down properly. There was a moment that he debated with himself. One on hand, this was wildly inappropriate and unheard of. On the other hand... it had been nice to hold someone again. For the moment it had lasted.. it had been comforting. Familiar in a way. Yet entirely different.

Hesitantly, as if expecting to be told to stop, he put his arm back around Isa's waist. He shifted closer, being careful to avoid pressing too closely to the prince. He gently moved hair out of the way of his face, unable to help noticing how... pleasant it was to touch. For a moment, a warm contentment settled over him. This was. strange, but... pleasant. Enjoyable, even. It didn't take long for Terra to simply doze off like this.

The thought of rules, regulations, and propriety hadn't even crossed Isa's mind, and it likely wouldn't have been much different had he actually been fully awake. Terra had saved his life twice in less than a twelve hour time span -- the sort of monster that Isa would have had to be in order to punish him for something so trivial wasn't anything even close to the sort of person that Isa wanted to be. 

Besides that. . . it felt nice. 

No one below Isa's status level was allowed to touch him; and no one  _ at _ Isa's status level certainly ever had. Not his father . . . not his "departed" mother. He couldn't even remember when the last time was that he'd been touched in any sort of friendly manner. . . 

. . . Yes, actually. He was a child. . . and it had been a very different pair of arms. 

He hadn't realized how very much he needed it. Now, compromised and without his typical reservation, Isa found himself shifting backwards into the hold, eyes slowly falling shut once more. 

Warm . . . comfortable. . . safe. 

For just this moment, he would let himself relax. Consequences and regrets could come later -- now, the prince was content, and shifting back into the deepest slumber he'd had in months.


	17. Chapter 17

Maybe it shouldn't have been surprising that the pair ended up sleeping soundly the rest of the night.

Terra, at least, was extremely comfortable. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed just..  _ holding  _ someone. It had always been a comforting feeling. A reassurance that someone else was there through the night, whatever it may hold. No nightmares could torment so long as someone else was there. Plus, the warmth of another person tended to help in the cool of the night. All around, it made for a peaceful night's sleep.

...And a peaceful morning sleep.

It was likely that Terra would have stayed asleep and in bed for much longer had there not been something... rather loud nearby. As he slowly came into consciousness, he realized it sounded like someone pounding their fist against wood, near frantically. He wasn't yet awake enough to realize it was someone knocking, loudly and quickly, on the door to the prince's chambers. He shifted in his half-awake daze, eyes half opening.

Blue. That was the only thing he saw. For a moment, it confused him. Until he remembered the brief interlude of the night. He was still holding onto the prince, who seemed much closer now then he had been before. Something.. odd stirred in his chest, but he didn't acknowledge it. Now wasn't the time to, even if he had been awake enough to process it. Which he wasn't.

"Isa.." he muttered, not letting go, but shifting his hold to nudge Isa a bit, "Isa, what's that sound..?"

It seemed that some gods, somewhere in the universe, had decided that the prince was some sort of toy that they could bat around on a string, and it did not appear that those gods were quite as merciful as Isa would have thought yesterday. 

At the sound of the frantic knocking, coupled with Terra's nudge, he startled awake -- Isa's snapping open, shifting out of Terra's hold -- which he was far too panicked to notice -- he was awake in moments. Albeit, to his extreme regret. 

Dazedly, and with a scowl stretching over his expression that only moments ago had been peaceful, he stumbled to the door and opened it to see Xion's slightly panicked face. At the sight of his safe but bedraggled appearance, she let out a relieved breath and relaxed a bit, saying "There you are, HIghness -- I was about to fetch a guard, I was starting to think something had happened. You're late. . . you're  _ never  _ late. Are you alright?" 

Late? 

Oh, devil, they'd overslept -- Isa had been so exhausted that he'd crashed far harder than he thought, and he muttered a curse under his breath. It didn't help that he'd appeared to have woken up so very  _ comfortable  _ for some reason. 

After assuring Xion he'd be out in a moment, he closed the door and looked back to Terra, calling out to get dressed quickly -- that they were late, along with several muttered curses. Quickly, he began digging through his own wardrobe, pausing to cast his shirt aside without a care in the world. 

He'd fallen asleep in one of the best ways possible; a way he refused to think about at the moment, and had woken up in one of the worst, beaten only by a wire closing around one's throat.

It had been a bit startling when Isa had suddenly disappeared from his arms, but at least it woke Terra up a bit more. He had sat up blurrily as Isa checked the door. Why did they have to get up..? It had been.. very pleasant to sleep like that. Isa had to have thought so too, since he'd welcomed it last night. Or at least allowed it.

Regardless, Terra hadn't wanted it to end. Maybe it was just the delivery of food? He thought he heard the young maid's voice, but he didn't understand the words spoken. If it was just food, they could leave it alone and go back to bed. It was strange. He'd never felt so willing to sleep the day away. Normally, he would have been awake the moment the sun had risen and already been running drills or at least eating breakfast. That wasn't his life now, though. Now he could think about just.. going back to bed with someone in his arms..

Until Isa said that one little word. Late. They were late for something. Well, technically, only the prince was late, but he was meant to stay with the prince at all times. So, as soon as that word registered in his mind, he shot out of bed and to his trunk. Quickly, he found a shirt that, while being still mostly for show, would cover the bandaged wound on his arm. Along with other clothes, he quickly got changed. It was difficult with his injured arm, but he didn't have time to care about it.

After dressing, he approached the prince, waiting for the other to be ready and willing to help if the prince asked. It was a bit amusing that the prince.. had a much fouler mouth than he would have thought. He didn't comment on it, but he did smile a little. A brief though crossed his mind, and he quickly messed up his hair and made his clothing appear disheveled. That would give a good cover, right? That the prince had simply been.. busy. Not oversleeping.

"I'm ready when you are, Isa," he said, trying to sound relaxed for the prince's sake.

Luckily, they weren't late for anything particularly  _ important  _ \-- only a short meeting with a few court members over breakfast. Still, Isa hated to be late, and he only gave a slightly irritable nod before starting off with his servant in tow. 

Terra's  _ cover  _ was oddly helpful, though the thought made Isa sick enough not to comment. Especially when he'd woken up with Terra touching him -- a reality that was just now starting to set in. 

And Isa had  _ encouraged  _ it. What if Terra had felt obligated? Ordered to do something he'd never meant to do in the first place? Isa wasn't alright with that. . . not in the slightest. 

Suddenly, he felt ill for reasons that had nothing to do with poison. 

It was a feeling that only increased upon entering the gathering chamber and being met with the judgmental eyes of several of his  _ least  _ favorite nobles. Was it too much to hope to catch just a  _ bit  _ of a break? 

Clenching his jaw, Isa sighed, steeled himself, and entered the room. This day was already off to a  _ great  _ start.

There were a lot of thoughts going through Terra's mind.

Now that the rush from being late was over, he could actually think through some things. It wasn't like he'd be doing anything except sit on the floor beside the prince. None of the other nobles would even look at him, and, if they did, it would only be a passing glance. The prince was making it abundantly clear that, had this been the true situation and not a façade, he did not want to share. Few would even dare attempt to test that with the prince.

Once the prince had walked in, him diligently following behind, all the nobles that were in the room stood. A sign of respect that clearly did not reach their faces nor hearts. He had used to believe that all the nobles honored the royal family. It was clear now that that wasn't the case.

Soon, all were settled, including him at his place beside Isa. Admittedly, he would have liked some breakfast, but he could just as easily get it later. The prince made sure of things like that. Which was strange... and one of the things he needed to think through.

The prince was so... unexpectedly different from things he had heard. While he had never been one for gossip, it was hard not to overhear people talk. Some said the prince was emotionless, but he knew that not to be true. He'd seen fear and joy and so much more from the prince. Some said the prince only cared for himself, but he had seen firsthand that Isa cared a lot about others. There was, of course, his general treatment that could be cited as an example, but the small shrine that Isa had set up... was a far more powerful evidence.

Behind all these façades, who was the prince, really? Someone that didn't need fineries or service. Someone that wanted to be independent first and ask for help only if necessary. Someone that cared for others' wellbeing, both physically and mentally. Someone that went out of his way to ensure that something was made right. Even when it wasn't advantageous for him.

Someone that would grow into a good king.

Something stirred within Terra. A resolve that he had already made was getting stronger. He had already promised to protect the prince, but now.. he wanted to do more than that. The prince was someone extraordinary. He had to see that incredible mind and compassion make it to a coronation. He simply had to.

Though, the strange feeling had something else to it. Thoughts of.. that dance in the garden.. walking up holding Isa.. that.. kiss... They wouldn't leave his mind. He had no idea why, but he couldn't figure it out either. Why was he so focused on that? Why did he want it all  _ again _ ?

Terra's inner dialogue was a complete mystery to the prince, who was focused simply on getting through this meeting. At least everyone here was civil -- at least, on the surface. It appeared that the examples that Isa had set previously had been taken to heart, and he was safe for the moment from further interference. Which meant, of course, that Terra was safe. 

Safe from the wandering hands and eyes of nobles, of course, but also of punishment. If no one raised a fuss, then Terra wouldn't have to contain nor lose his temper, and it would appear to all who observed as if Isa had done an adequate job training him. That would keep Isa out from under fire, and Terra from beneath an axe. 

There was one good thing, at least, about all of this. And Isa very much needed something good going on. 

Luckily, the meeting passed satisfactorily, albeit incredibly slowly. Fortunately, Isa was left more with a mild sense of annoyance than rage or frustration. Also fortunately for the late-sleeping noble, they were delivered an order of simple pastries. 

After taking one of his own and pulling the thing apart, he waited for a lull in conversation before lowering a piece down to the side under the table where Terra could see it. He wasn't exactly about to allow the poor thing to starve the whole meeting while watching the others eat.

Fully immersed in his thoughts, Terra had no idea what was being talked about at the table. Maybe that was for the best. By all technicality, he wasn't here. Another decoration to the room or an extra ornament in the prince's hair. It hurt to be viewed as such, but there was nothing he could do about it. Not unless he wanted to get himself in trouble, which would end with him getting killed. Which he'd prefer to avoid.

Part of him was comforted that the prince didn't see him in that way. More than that, the prince seemed to go out of his way to make him feel as human as the situation would allow. Even chained by convention and tension, Isa still found ways to ensure his comfort above many things. Giving him a separate bed their first few nights. Giving him privacy and space when needed. Giving him a weapon to defend himself or the other with. Giving him his own items to have like a comb.

All of that seemed very mundane, but it was touching in a way. When put in perspective, this was far  _ far  _ more than any expected of Isa. Plus, almost all others that could have been his "master" would have mistreated him until he was deemed "unusable". Isa would never do that. Isa even went out of his way to do the opposite. Compassion and empathy. It shined through Isa the brightest compared to any in this castle.

Which was being exampled again now, as the prince held out a small bit of food despite the personal risk in doing so. Quickly yet carefully, to avoid being noticed. Terra took the piece of bread and put it in his mouth as subtly as he could. He didn't feel desperately hungry, but the action was appreciated. Just more evidence that Isa was better than most people in this castle.

The action was repeated until the pastry was gone. It wasn't extremely necessary, perhaps, but Isa couldn't help himself. Perhaps it was out of his guilt for the night before . . . after having taken advantage of Terra the way he had, then and at the party, he at least owed it to the other to keep him fed. 

It also gave Isa something to focus on that  _ wasn't  _ the boring back and forth of the meeting in front of him. It didn't seem to matter that there wasn't much to discuss -- it simply droned on, and on . . . and on, for far longer than Isa would have liked. 

Eventually, however, the meeting was concluded, all proper societal functions met, and the court members bowed, one right after the other, as they left the chamber, following Isa's orders. Once the door was shut, he sighed and relaxed back into the chair while rubbing his eyes. 

"That was. . . infinitely better than last time, I suppose," He muttered. "At the very least, neither of us has come close to death. Which makes it a success, in my opinion. Now . . . I want to examine the bit of food I saved, yesterday, and see if we can determine what was used to poison me. Have you experience at all in such things?"

In all honesty, Terra hadn't expected it to continue, mostly because the more it was done, the more likely they were to get caught. But he did appreciate it. The more he was given, the more his body seemed to realize he was hungry. He could probably still stand to eat something, but he was satisfied enough for now. Till they got back to the prince's chamber and didn't have to sneak about it.

The other nobles leaving was more of a relief than it should have been, though, in a much different way. There had been no danger, but it had been getting tiring. Nobles sure liked to talk about nothing, didn't they? But now they were all gone, and it was just him and the prince. Carefully, he stood, dusting off his knees slightly.

"Oh, yes, I do," he said, looking at Isa when the question was asked, "when I was a child I nearly ate something wildly poisonous. Luckily, my father stopped me before I did, then he took it upon himself to teach me as much as he could about the subject. Not just plant-based ones either. He considered it a responsible thing to know about all potential poisons. And how to combat them if necessary."

Maybe he had spoken too much, but he didn't fully care. Somehow, he trusted the prince with even more personal information such as that. After all, the prince had done personal things for him, even when there was no obligation to.

As Terra spoke, Isa felt his frustration ebbing away. It was odd, the effect that the servant had. Slowly, he sat back upright, dropping his hand from his face, something wistful coming over him as he listened to Terra's brief story. 

"That's remarkable," He muttered. "And just the sort of thing I would have expected from your father, considering his reputation. He sounds like a very admirable man . . . and like he's passed on a good deal of his expertise." 

Impassive, and without another word, he then rose to his feet and started towards the door. "Let's get on with it, then -- while we're investigating, I'll send for someone to check on our friend in the dungeons." 

He expected Terra to follow -- he  _ knew  _ Terra would follow. And he didn't hesitate at all to turn his back on him. . .something rather remarkable for the prince.

It was impossible not to smile, even if it was tinged with a bit of sadness. at the prince's words about Eraqus. Terra certainly had to agree: Eraqus had been an admirable man. He would always be grateful for the things Eraqus had taunt him, of which there was a lot. The real blessing now was that this knowledge was truly becoming useful. Not just to him, but for what he always wanted to do: protect the royal family.

Though, it was a bit different now. Perhaps it was his own bias from his near death experiences, but he was growing to personally like the prince more than he did the king. The prince was far more patient and respected others. Even those of lower social status. No other noble Terra knew behaved like that. But that just made the prince all the more admirable himself.

So he followed. Something told him he could always follow the prince. A loyalty was forming in his heart. Not just to the kingdom as a whole, like he had had when simply a soldier, but to the heir specifically. After all, the prince was someone deserving of trust.

Soon they were back in the prince's chambers, away from prying eyes and judgmental wills. It shouldn't be too difficult to identify the poison on the food, but it could prove difficult if it were one from some distant land. Terra was more familiar with poisons that originated from native plants. Hopefully, this wouldn't be difficult.

"Where did you put it?" he asked while glancing around the room, "and do you smell that? There's something faint, but... wrong. Somehow."

After ordering a guard to travel to the dungeons, presumably on the orders to check in on rumors of a thief who'd just been imprisoned, Isa shut the door to the chambers and moved towards his nightstand, where he'd stored the bit of food left over from the day before. 

It wasn't the  _ freshest  _ thing any longer, but it wasn't as if either of them intended to actually eat it. The prince could only hope that whatever poison had been used on it hadn't deteriorated while exposed to the open air. 

"Here. . . " He murmured, unwrapping the handkerchief he'd wrapped around the small delicacy and offering it to his servant. Simultaneously, he frowned, giving a few sniffs as he endeavored to corroborate Terra's words. 

". . . You're right. . . It's odd. I can't quite place it. Perhaps some . . . odd, tasteless parfum, lingering in the air?" It was a poor explanation, but Isa wasn't much concerned with the scent of his room at the moment. Not when compared with everything else he had to deal with.

Carefully, Terra took the handkerchief from the Isa with both hands, trying to ignore how their hands briefly touched. He focused on the bit of poisoned food. If he could determine the type of poison, it would help narrow down who had tried to kill the prince. There were only so many types of poison, and there were only so many places where you could get them. Even the materials to make poisons were only in limited spaces. So if he could just... figure it out.

He stepped to the desk and sat down, putting the bit of food in front of him. Alright, just go through the steps. First, look over the item in question. Search for holes where a poison was injected, or strange textures that were distinct from the food. Nothing particularly stood out. He thought it best to avoid the tasting aspect, seeing as Isa had only had very little and had nearly died. Assuming, of course, that this was the food that was poisoned.

Which left smell. Sniffing the small bit of food made the source of the odd smell immediately obvious. The small bit of fish smelled far more strongly than it should have, even having been left out for a day. Something was wrong about that. It shouldn't have smelled that horrible so soon. He knew enough about food preservation to notice that. But that meant..

"This wasn't poison," he said, eyebrows furrowing, "this food is clearly contaminated, but not by a poison. It's as if.. it's gone foul. But it shouldn't have so soon. Eating things that smell like this.. could at least make you sick, but this seems worse than that. I doubt any noble family would have served something already going foul like this."

He stared at the item, as if in thought. "I had to have been preserved wrong. So someone either needs to be removed from their staff or... it was intentional. Based on that bastard's behavior.. I'm leaning towards the second," he said before looking up at Isa.

As Terra spoke, Isa could feel a faint humiliation settling into his very bones.  _ Spoiled food _ . . . Had he truly sat there, at the table, and eaten an entire plate full of spoiled food without nothing, and then nearly died from it? Was Isa the victim, not of an assassin, but his own stupidity? 

Though his expression remained composed, a heat rose to his face he had trouble ignoring. At least, until Terra continued speaking and insisted that whatever had happened to the food was intentional after all. 

Was it odd that Isa felt relieved at that? 

" . . . Yes, judging by the way that bastard was speaking to me, he's entirely responsible," He muttered under his breath. Brow furrowing as he started to scowl, Isa crossed his arms over his chest. ". . . I should have known something was wrong with the food, damn it . . . I remember thinking it tasted odd, but I thought it was merely the poor taste of pompous royals. It's logical to assume that man was responsible -- I only wish I'd had enough evidence to accuse him outright."

"It's likely this was chosen for just that purpose," Terra said while bundling the food back into the cloth, "if it was investigated, it would have been blamed on bad food. Not an assassin. Some innocent servant would have gotten blamed for killing you, and they likely would have been executed themself for negligence. While our real enemy got away with no one suspecting him."

He sighed and shook his head. "It was clever. I don't think he was expecting someone to know how to help. Especially not after disposing of the apothecary that should have been there. Which I think it's highly likely that he did. It's too much of a coincidence for an assassination attempt to happen through poison while the one who could save that person was gone," he said.

It was obvious that the prince had been affected greatly by this.. How could he help? Perhaps there wasn't a straightforward way to do so, but he would still try. After all, he couldn't let the prince stress himself too much. It was over now.

"Don't worry," he said, smiling gently, "I know enough about these to keep this from happening again. Not all odd tasting food is poison, but I know how to tell the difference. And since I'll always be there, I won't let you die. I swore, after all."

The guard's words had no right whatsoever to be as comforting as they were. Terra was only a mortal man, and besides that he was limited in an exceedingly large number of ways as a result of his position. As helpful as he'd been, there were numerous ways that an assassin could have worked around him in order to deliver Isa his death. 

But, damn it. . . Terra spoke with enough conviction for Isa to believe him, and the prince wasn't sure how to take that. He swallowed, standing in silence for a few moments while staring a bit distantly ahead of him. 

Then, he returned the smile -- his own was sad, and tired, but it was real. " . . . You have my sincere thanks. I am extremely grateful, I assure you, and your help isn't something I'll take lightly." 

He raised a hand for a moment, debating laying it on Terra's shoulder, but something stopped him and it was quickly lowered back to his side. " . . . I'll see to it that you're rewarded one day, for this impossible task that is keeping me alive. You have my word."

Slowly enough for the prince to move, Terra stood. The chair had been sitting in moved accordingly. He looked at Isa, partially wishing that smile didn't look so sad. But what could he do about it? He'd already said words to inspire peace. Maybe that's all he could do for now, at least with his words. There wasn't any pressing action either. It was just a matter of being present.

Eraqus had said once that simple company was enough for some people when there was toil in their life. Just prove they weren't alone in their suffering or troubles. Perhaps, he could do that for Isa. No more talk of the stress, regardless if it was in an attempt at comfort or not. No acting as if he was expecting an attack. There had been enough of that already. So he would just be a companion.

"There's no need to thank me," he said while walking across the room to the table. He put the wrapped, contaminated food down. When they asked for food next, he would have to make sure to tell the maid that that needed to be thoroughly disposed of. "I'm doing my duty. To my kingdom.. and to a friend."

He hoped that last word was right. He hoped they were becoming friends, if only because they were getting used to the company. Beside that, he wanted to be Isa's friend. There was so much more to Isa than he had ever expected, and he loved discovering more. The best way to do that was through friendship. Questions or games or just conversation. It was what friendships were built on, and he wanted that here with the prince. Hopefully, that was what the prince wanted too.

. . . A friend? 

For a few moments, Isa honestly wasn't sure what Terra was saying. A duty to a friend? Was there someone else in Terra's life that Isa hadn't known about, for whom he was acting and trying to keep himself alive? Was he referring to the person he'd snuck out to speak with? No -- that had been his family, right? 

He stood completely still as Terra moved, shocked and only  _ more  _ so when he realized exactly what Terra meant. 

A friend. . . did he truly see Isa as a  _ friend _ ? A prince, to whom he's sworn allegiance, and whom held far too much power over his very life. Isa had stolen him from his family -- albeit being the lesser of two evils when compared to an executioner's block -- and taken advantage of him, now, more than once. He'd bound him to duty . . . sworn allegiance, yes, and the  _ duty to the kingdom _ that Terra himself had described. 

Yet. . . Terra saw him as a  _ friend _ ? 

Did that mean that Terra was his friend, as well? 

Isa had only had one friend, before, in his entire life. And that friendship had been nothing but a curse for the poor boy who'd made the unfortunate choice to get close to the prince. 

But . . .the thought of having Terra as a  _ friend  _ was far too appealing for Isa to pass up. Even if it ended in tragedy. Perhaps that showed how weak the prince truly was. 

" . . . It's a duty that someone in your position would easily scorn," He murmured. "And I doubt very many people would get to such a point that they considered their captor their 'friend.'" 

A knock sounded on the door then, and Isa moved to answer it without looking in Terra's direction.

Many things came to Terra's mind to say. Insistence that he didn't scorn the duty. That he was partially honored. Not to mention that this position hadn't truly been horrible. The prince had tried to give him every possible freedom, which could easily backfired on the prince himself. Yet the prince had done it anyway out of compassion.

Then there was that other word. Captor. He supposed, strictly speaking, the prince  _ was  _ keeping him captive. But it wasn't as if he was bound constantly nor all his dignity stripped of him. When compared to others of his current status, he was far more free. He was not just  _ allowed  _ to do certain things. The prince didn't even restrict him beyond what was necessary for their act. That's all it even was. An act.

It was a far better solution than death. If it hadn't been for the prince, he would have died right there in the throne room over a false accusation in front of his sister. But that had been stopped. While he was still made to stay with the prince, it was far better than being dead. Not to mention, the prince actively did things so he could communicate with people he cared about.

Not to mention the shrine. Just that act alone had shown Terra something about the prince. Something deep and special and secret. That no matter what façade the prince put up, he cared about other people. Both physically and emotionally. Isa showed that time and time again, but nothing topped the shrine. It was possible nothing ever would.

But he didn't get a chance to speak. When the knock sounded, he went silent. He stepped away from the prince, looking at the ground. No need to blow their cover just because he wanted to speak. He could wait for a few moments until whoever was at the door left.

Whatever odd thoughts and emotions had taken root in the prince's mind, battering and breaking his resolve, they were momentarily chased away as soon as the servant at the door spoke. Frowning in confusion, she informed the prince that no such criminal had been taken in, and asked the prince if he was feeling alright. 

The dungeons were empty. 

It took every bit of Isa's practiced, infallible willpower not to allow his shock and rage to cross his face. Damn it -- he should have  _ known  _ the rat would have found a way to escape. Especially if the man at the party had been her accomplice. . . they'd lost a valuable clue, now, and were left with nothing but a piece of rotten fish. 

Biting his tongue to restrain a curse, he thanked the servant and murmured that he must have heard wrong, then dismissed her before shutting the door. As soon as it was closed, he fell back against it and let the curses fall, one hand raising to tear through his hair. 

"She's  _ gone _ ," He grimaced. "Damn it -- Perhaps I  _ should  _ have set a guard last night."

"What?!" Terra exclaimed, allowing every bit of shock to pass on his face, "she was entirely bound! There wasn't even any weapon on her person! How could she have possibly gotten out?!"

This was entirely unexpected, though, maybe he should have expected it. Assuming the two assassins had been connected... they were no amateurs. That fact alone was unsettling. That meant not only had two possibly professional assassins attempted to kill the prince twice in one day, but that there was someone wealthy enough to  _ afford  _ such assassins that wanted the prince dead. It could be anyone. Enemies from another country attempting to take out the heir to their rival kingdom. Or maybe even a particularly ruthless and ambitious noble from within this court itself.

The possibilities were endless.

The woman assassin getting away wasn't good. She could report the failure, which would prompt potentially more assassins being sent. He'd need to keep a better eye out and never allow this to happen again. Hell, he should have asked to check the prison throughout the night, just to ensure the prisoner  _ stayed  _ there. She likely had another hidden knife  _ somewhere  _ and had used it to cut her bindings and pick the lock. It wasn't that complicated to do if you were trained in it. It was a safe assumption that she  _ was _ .

He calmed. "It's alright. It's likely that she won't be able to return to where she came from for days on foot. In the meantime, we just need to be careful. Perhaps we should ask the duchess about this? Something seemed wrong," he said, trying to think of the next course of action.

"I don't know -- I don't know, damn it, I don't  _ know  _ \-- " The prince hissed, fisting his hand in the top of his hair as he paced back and forth in front of the door. "Damn it -- I'm an idiot, I never should have left her unguarded." 

Now, she was out there -- potentially free to attack again at any moment, and in close proximity to the  _ castle _ . She could report to whoever had hired her, and more assassins would certainly follow, including her partner whom they'd left behind at the party. 

Partner. 

The pink haired man -- the duchess -- the fear in her eyes as she'd looked at him. 

Isa froze, finally managing to process Terra's words, then let out a hissing breath as he slowly nodded. ". . .Yes. She was definitely disturbed -- if those bastards have done anything at all to her, I swear to gods I'll have their heads." 

He stormed to his desk, then, and pulled out a quill and parchment, which he stared at distantly for a few moments. ". . . But if I'm to write to her, the letter might be intercepted. . . " He muttered. "Even with the danger, we can't have this getting out. We'll have to communicate in code. . . "

It was more than a little obvious that the prince was stressed. For good reason as well. With that assassin on the loose, she could very well be in the castle itself to finish the job. Or she could have just escaped. There was no way of  _ knowing _ . Not without alerting the entire castle to the potential threat, which could cause its own myriad of problems. This needed to remain subtle, but.. they needed to be on guard.

Terra stood beside Isa at the desk, looking at the paper himself. The risk of the letter being intercepted with indeed high. Especially if there were enemies about, whether from just the assassin duo or within the castle itself. But how to get information subtly in a way the duchess would understand?

"Didn't the man claim to be family to the duchess?" he asked while putting a hand to his chin in thought, "you could act as though you're asking about that. She would understand who you were talking about whether or not the man truly was related. After all, it almost felt like she knew there was a threat but had no option. I didn't see everything, but her voice sounded scared. She could have very well been a hostage within her own home."

Pen remained frozen to paper for a moment, ink pooling out from the nib of the quill like blood. For a few moments, the prince stared dead ahead of him, eyes distant and jaw clenched tightly shut. Then, he let out a hissing breath and slowly nodded, moving his hand away from the ink blot and tossing the parchment aside before replacing it with a fresh sheet. 

"Right --" He muttered, feathered quill moving jerkily and fast as he wrote. "I thought the same thing. Who knows how long those bastards were there -- who knows how the hell they threatened her. I'll have their head one day, I swear on all that's good --" 

He was half muttering to himself, yet Terra's presence somehow managed to quell the sharp temper he'd suddenly found himself facing. Rationality was suddenly harder to come by than was typical, and it was with an incredible amount of self-discipline that Isa pushed himself back towards it. 

"I'm inquiring into her health . . . as well as that of her 'family,'" He muttered in explanation. "Asking if they enjoyed her party -- and if they made it home alright. She should understand what I mean . . . I only hope she's safe enough to be honest in her response."

Terra couldn't help but let out a sigh. This entire situation was getting needlessly complicated. But there was nothing he could do to change that. If he thought of it simply, someone wanted the prince dead. If he thought more deeply, that someone had access to trained assassins that could find ways within noble parties and estates that had at least two different skill sets. His mission really was going to become the difficult task of keeping the prince alive, wasn't it?

No matter. This was what he was trained for. To face danger and protect those that needed protecting. Even if it wasn't exactly in name, he was now the prince's personal guard. It was a high honor, even if no one else knew he had it. And he would take it with as much pride as he could manage. Isa was someone worth protecting, anyways.

"That is a good idea, Isa," he said with a small nod, "I hope she's in a safe position as well. It was only her sixteenth birthday. She's barely old enough to have to face these things. Maybe you ought to have more soldiers in that area? Or would that be too conspicuous?"

He got lost in thought, thinking over plans and how they could react to this. He had been taught in strategy, but he'd never thought he'd have to use it for  _ this _ .

"No, that's an excellent suggestion --" Isa muttered in response, quill still flicking rapidly through the air as he wrote. " -- I'll simply have to phrase the order properly, in a manner that won't raise alarm. I'll inform them that I noticed issues with formation while at the party, and word it under the guise of guarding the area itself rather than guarding the Duchess. Protecting the girl herself will then go without saying . . . " 

This was all so very  _ much _ , and Isa knew that if he'd been anyone else he would have been completely overwhelmed. His own odds of surviving to his next birthday seemed to be growing shorter by the moment, which was inherently stressful enough, but now others were being drug into the situation, and that was something that Isa couldn't stand for. 

. . . In fact, if it hadn't been for Terra, Isa would have been completely overwhelmed even being who he was. No -- he wouldn't be overwhelmed, he'd already have been in the grave three times over. 

Of course, he was grateful . . . but was this too much responsibility to put on Terra? The guard, quite plainly, held the prince's life in his hands. And that was incredibly uncomfortable, leaving Isa vulnerable in a way he didn't appreciate. But he hadn't any choice. 

Pausing in his writing, he glanced towards Terra for a moment and opened his mouth to speak, only to shake the urge away and turn back to his parchment.

Responsibility was familiar to Terra. Whether it be from his training and duties from being a solider or caring for his family when their father was away, he was used to having a lot on his shoulders. It was gradually easier to carry such burdens as he aged, but they still weighed heavily on his heart and mind. They had always done so. 

His training had been a physical responsibility of waking early and overcoming his limitations. Adapting his reaction time. Gaining strength to force away attackers. Learning self discipline to face danger despite fear. It had been tiring, but ultimately rewarding. His responsibility to his kingdom was strong, and he had been determined to step up to it. Now, in a way, he was doing just that. Though, admittedly, he had not expected nearly as many assassins so soon.

There was a small part of him that missed the responsibility that came from his family. They were far more mundane responsibilities. Tending the garden. Helping with dinner. Washing the dishes or clothes. Caring for Ventus. Being ready to guard the home from robbers. Perhaps he was truly more homesick, so it was easy to consider the duties of home much more appealing.

"Yes," he said gently, looking a bit confused from the random glance he had received, "what is it, Isa? Is something wrong?"

_ Everything  _ was wrong. 

Everything was wrong -- and it had always  _ been  _ wrong -- and now, it was worse than ever, with a cloud looming over that promised a future where nothing was ever right. Not that Isa would be there to see it. 

The kingdom was in a poor state -- people were starving, unnecessary wars were stirring over petty squabbles, and more horrors hid behind the doors of high society than was natural. One of few people in power with both opportunity and desire, Isa was doing his best to stop it -- but now, someone out there had decided it imperative that he never get the chance. And they were willing to abuse, threaten, and manipulate whoever or whatever they needed to in order to make that happen. 

The reality was only just now settling in for the prince, and he felt exceedingly cold. 

" . . . It's nothing," He shook his head, then proceeded to roll the parchment of his letter into a scroll. He'd call for a servant momentarily and have it delivered within a day. " . . . I'm just tired. Lingering effects of the poison." 

But poison had nothing to do with why Isa felt sick -- nor with why it was suddenly so hard for him to breathe.

Ah, that was a fairly easy to spot lie. While there could be residual effects of the poison, it didn't seem like that was the problem. Terra couldn't blame the prince for being tired. There was no word that described the amount of stress that came from the knowledge that someone wanted you dead. He certainly didn't understand the feeling. But he could attempt to be sympathetic, or at least reassuring that nothing bad would happen.

Gently, he put his hand on Isa's shoulder, meeting the other's eyes the best he could. It was meant to help the other snap out of whatever panicked thoughts were surely forming. He doubted there would be any serious repercussion for touching the prince without permission or an order. Isa wasn't that type of person. He trusted that.

"It's alright if you're more than just tired. Yesterday was eventful in more ways than one. You should try to relax today, and I will make sure none try to harm you again. That is my duty, isn't it? Right now, your only responsibility is recovering from it all. Alright?" his voice was soft, not demanding anything of the prince. It was a suggestion. One he hoped the prince took seriously.

As much as he wanted to, it was a suggestion that Isa simply  _ couldn't  _ take. 

There were more important things to do than recover. He had to look out for his kingdom, the duchess, and figure out who the hell wanted him dead in the first place. Isa refused to wallow in fear and self-pity, especially when there was so very much on the line. 

This went deeper than his own life. Though, clearly, his continued existence was pivotal to the fruition of his goals. If Isa died, then his dreams would die with him -- and the kingdom would be brought to ruin. That was likely why he was even being targeted in the first place. 

Every dream of progress, of hope for the kingdom's citizens, and for Isa's future, was extremely fragile. And over it all -- likely not realizing exactly how important he was -- was a single bedservant. 

Just as Isa had provided a lifeline for Terra as he knelt beneath an axe, so Terra had done the same. He was Isa's only hope, now, and the prince had no choice but to surrender his trust. As hard as it was to do so. 

That meant now, as well. 

As the hand settled on his shoulder, the prince tensed, then slowly turned his head to glance in his guard's direction. "How am I to relax . . . " He muttered, angry but not at Terra. The words weren't an accusation -- they were imploring. " . . . When my life and kingdom could be stolen from me at any moment? And when whoever it is that wants my head will clearly go to whatever lengths they have to in order to see my blood, including bringing in innocents? How am I, in good conscience, to  _ rest _ ?"

"Because I am not going to let anything happen to you," Terra immediately said in all sincerity.

He meant that more than words could fully express. The prince before him was more worthy to inherit the throne than any of the other nobles he had met so far. Even just witnessing from a silent perspective, it was clear that things needed to change. That there were those that abused their power as well as other people. Before now, he'd been entirely ignorant of it. Now he saw it plainly.

And he saw how much the prince hated it.

"I swore to guard you. Nothing will harm you with me here. Not poisons or weapons or anything else used. I will make sure of that. I will keep you alive," he said while gradually letting go of the other and lowering himself to a kneeling position, "I swore it, and I will do so again. There is no need to fear, so long as I am with you. Any that get brought into this, I will protect as well. No harm will come to anyone under my protection."

He bowed his head slightly.

"However, you need rest. I can prevent death and injury, but it is up to you to stay strong in heart and mind. I cannot do that for you. I am here so you may rest in peace, until the day you no longer need the protection. My duty is to you. Your duty is to ensure you are ready to inherit this kingdom when the time comes. And it will come. Nothing will take you until it is time for you to die naturally. Decades from now," he continued, voice firm yet trying to be reassuring.

The confidence in Terra's voice was nearly enough to convince the prince. 

Nearly. 

But the burden the guard had taken on his shoulders -- nay, the burden that Isa had  _ placed  _ there -- was far too much for a single person to bear. Isa knew that. Terra's job was growing harder and larger by the moment, and with as much conviction as he spoke, Isa couldn't help wondering if he'd collapse eventually beneath the strain. The burden of the job -- as well as his own sorrows, and unfortunate position -- weren't any that any person deserved to have. 

It wasn't fair to him. And it wasn't realistic that Terra could deliver on his promises. 

Yet, the words were more reassuring than they had a right to be -- and it would be so easy to let himself believe. 

For a moment, the prince simply stared in slight awe at the man kneeling beside him, wondering not for the first time how so clearly a noble soul could have been branded as a criminal and murderer. 

" . . . Don't kneel before me," He murmured, tone far too quiet to have been an order. ". . . You've done enough to be allowed to stand tall."

Maybe it was a bit unnecessary to be kneeling, but it felt like the right thing to do. Likely because it was what Terra had always expected from being in the service of the prince. A kneeling knight before a higher prince. It was simply how it was. Both in duty and in status. He had always accepted that fact. To him, it was the most honorable thing he could get, to kneel in service to the prince.

But being told to stand like that, almost like an equal, affected him deeply.

Surely, the prince knew how backwards that was? For him to stand equal to the prince, especially given his true position. Is that what the prince wanted..? For them to be equals? That was impossible, but Terra found himself touched by it regardless. Had he truly done so much for the prince, for  _ Isa _ , to say that? It seemed impossible.

For a moment, he only stared up at the other, shocked. Then, he slowly smiled, one that was small and gentle.

"I am only doing my duty, which is why I kneel," he said before slowly starting to rise, "but if that's not what you want, then I won't. If you don't want someone beneath you, then what do you want, Isa?"

That was quite possibly the most difficult question the prince had ever been asked. It was something he'd never had the chance to think about -- something he'd never  _ indulged _ . His wants didn't matter. They were irrelevant in comparison to what his kingdom  _ needed _ . 

. . . But was that the same thing? Was that what Terra was asking? Somehow, the question felt entirely different in nature, and answering with any of Isa's goals felt incredibly canned. 

. . . What was the answer, then? 

Why was the first thing that came to Isa's mind a garden, simple dance steps, and a far too desperate kiss? 

The thought was forced away, and Isa was quiet as he replaced it with another, more acceptable one. ". . . I want to share mutual respect," He murmured. "I want an equal. I want freedom from convention and order. . . I want a companion. I want one person in this entire world that I don't have to keep up court appearances with. I want us . . . to be able to just. Exist." 

He sighed, expression falling for a moment, then shook his head as he rose with the scroll to call for a servant. " . . . But that's not something I have the luxury of even thinking about."

That was a far more straightforward answer than Terra had expected. It had honestly surprised him to the point that he didn't have a proper reply immediately. Such an honest and open response from someone that owed him nothing of the sort. It was as touching as it was shocking.

Was that really what the prince wanted? There were so many people in the castle, so many nobles jumping at the chance to be in his audience, and the prince was lonely. Perhaps it did make sense. Due to his position, the prince would not be able to truly be himself in front of others. Only the royal, formal façade was ever seen. Never the person behind it. No wonder Isa wanted that.

Before the prince called the servant, he quickly caught Isa's wrist. It was a gentle hold, solely for getting the other's attention.

"You have that," he said with a gentle smile, "at least, I hope you do. In me. I hope it's not too forward to assume this, but I consider you.. a friend. And isn't the basis of any true friendship mutual respect and the ability to be yourself? I don't expect anything of you aside from that. Existing. Perhaps, we could even do so together."

Hopefully, that was alright. He really didn't know where the line was between them anymore. They weren't servant and master. Isa had refused that. They weren't knight and prince. Isa had refused that as well. So maybe... they could be friends, despite the oddities of their meeting and their act outside this room.

Well, Terra had certainly grown comfortable, hadn't he? 

The touch came as a complete surprise, and Isa reflexively stilled, not yet looking back at the servant as he took in the words he was speaking. Every word came as more of a surprise, quieting the racing thoughts in the prince's mind purely through their surrealism. 

A . . . Friend. 

Was that truly what Terra was? 

He wasn't a slave. . . he wasn't even truly a servant, or a guard. Only moments before, Isa had told him to stop kneeling. He'd  _ wanted  _ Terra to grow this comfortable -- he'd wanted the expression of fear to fade from his face, and for the stiff conventions of society to have no place in the privacy of his bedroom. 

Was Terra . . . a friend? Was that a good thing? 

Isa had only had one other friend in his life -- and being Isa's companion hadn't worked out very well for him at all. 

" . . . Perhaps . . . " He murmured, voice soft, then glanced over his shoulder with an unreadable expression. Then, he gave a gentle smile -- somehow sad -- and drifted away from the touch to deliver the letter.

Well, that seemed like the most direct answer Terra was likely to get. It was a strange topic, after all. It wasn't often that friendships were forged like this. Hidden away from the world between two people that, had this situation truly been the façade they played, would despise each other. Not have the foundations for companionship and friendly affection.

Yet, here they were.

It hadn't been too long a time since he had been taken into the prince's service. He had been scared, hesitant to do anything out of line. But, so quickly, Isa had shown his true character. One that was noble and merciful. Nothing like the cruelty that others with far less power than the prince would have. Perhaps that was a poor comparison, certainly one that Isa rose high above.

But beyond that, Isa had shown genuine care. That was what convinced Terra to trust him. He would continue to trust the prince so long as that trait was shown. Which, so far, seemed unwavering.

He returned the small smile with a more broad one of his own before turning away. It would be better not to ask anymore questions about that. He crossed the room to the bookshelf and quickly picked one out. He didn't really focus on what he had taken much, but he wanted to read something. It was best to keep one's mind occupied and active. And he wouldn't disturb the prince while he talked to the servant.


	18. Chapter 18

The conversation passed smoothly, and the servant quickly departed with the letter, which was a blessing to the prince. It seemed that his tolerance for conversation was decreasing with every day. At least he had a calm moment, now -- though, realistically, he should be spending his time in court. 

At least he had the built in excuse of spending time training his servant. 

Once the letter was delivered, he sighed and made his way to his bed, sitting gingerly on the edge. He hadn't yet looked to Terra, again, but he couldn't stop thinking about what the other man had said. Friends. . . could they be friends? Even in a simple nature, could they have a  _ genuine  _ relationship? Already, he held a closer relationship to this one servant than he had anyone else in his life. 

" . . . I need a distraction," He muttered before he could stop himself. " . . . Will you speak to me? I don't care what about."

In all honesty, Terra hadn't expected the prince to talk to him. He had thought the other would want to rest after the tiring act at breakfast, and the two would do quiet tasks on their own. That was how they operated most days. Sparse conversation between appearances in court then near silence when they felt there was nothing left to say. As much as it had bothered him at first, it was the normal thing between them now.

Which was why Terra was surprised that Isa wanted to talk. Especially with no topic or concern. It wasn't like Isa.

Then again, he supposed he could understand the need for a distraction. Yesterday had been incredibly stressful for the prince. Having two near death experiences didn't usually help people feel safe or happy. Idle tasks like paperwork or reading likely wouldn't truly help a troubled mind. Nothing really could. But another person could help.

Terra gently closed his book and put it on the table before looking at the prince. If it was conversation Isa wanted, that was what he would get. But about what? What topic could possibly hold a true conversation between them?

"Have you ever been out to the farmlands? The meadows and forest outside of the castle walls? East of here, about an hour's ride, there's a field lined by forest on three sides. A stream runs through the forest into a small lake in the back of the field. Near the middle of the field is a sturdy, yet fairly small house. Just a few bedrooms, a study, and a large common area around a fireplace," he carefully described.

Maybe it was personal, but it was the best thing he knew to talk about. So he continued.

"The forest is full of animals and plants. A small but varied garden sits on the south side of the house. On the southeastern side, closer to the front of the field and near the road, is a stable, always full of the strongest horses. Nothing else is needed there. Anything anyone wants or needs is just.. right there," he said, ending softly.

Truthfully, it was more of a personal answer than the prince had expected. The description succeeded, at least, in distracting him, Terra's words painting a picture of the location in his mind. 

He'd been to the farmlands, before -- or rather, through them. He'd never stopped; carriage or horse carrying him quickly past and onto the next responsibility. Logically, he'd known that there were people who lived out that far -- but it was a very different thing to hear it for himself, and to have such a home described. 

_ Nothing else is needed, there _ . . . no gilded decorations, or collections of trinkets. No imported fashions or delicacies. No pride, no pomp, and no stifling convention . . . 

. . . It sounded lovely. 

" . . . I believe I've passed that stable before, in travel . . . " He said slowly. " . . . I never thought much of or about it. Or what could lie beyond it. That little house. . . " 

The prince glanced up, then, in Terra's direction, an odd look on his face. "That's your home?"

Maybe Terra shouldn't have said all of that. The moment the words had finished coming out of his mouth, he felt oddly hollow. Not quite sad, but longing. How long had it been since he had been home? It felt as though it had been a lifetime ago. Perhaps it was. His life was entirely different now. Nothing like it had been before. No rides. No tending to the garden. No exploring the forest. No fishing or hunting.

No Aqua or Ventus.

"Yes," he said, not looking at the prince at first. His gaze had only just lifted to look at the shine, carefully set up on the bookshelf across the room. "My father inherited the land. It's no grand estate with a mansion or fancy, well-tended gardens. It's quiet and simple, maybe a bit rugged, but it's comfortable," he said wistfully.

He looked over at the prince. He refused to get overly emotional as he spoke. The place still existed. There was a chance he could someday return, if only as a visit. It wasn't some forgotten place with no hope of ever going home. He just couldn't go home now. Not with all the complications involved as well as the prince's need for protection.

"It's a beautiful place," he said with a reminiscing smile, "there's always some animal just on the edge of the forest or birds flying onto the window sill."

Though fleeting and quickly covered by that heavy smile, Terra's melancholy didn't escape Isa's notice. Internally, he cursed himself -- there was no need to draw attention to all of the aspects of home that the man he'd claimed as his servant could no longer access. 

Damn it -- could they have a  _ single  _ interaction that didn't result in his causing the other man harm? 

Still . . . the picture that Terra had painted with words and memory resonated with something deep within the prince, and he suddenly longed to see it. The fine, ornate room was turning into a prison, choking and threatening to close around him. Walls were too stifling . . . too cold, and too firm . . . 

. . . Perhaps they were equally prisoners. 

" . . . It sounds lovely," He confessed. "Like something well worth protecting. And far more meaningful than a grand estate." He held Terra's eyes for a moment, expression gentle, though he was unable to return the smile. 

" . . . I'd like to see it, someday, if I'm able." The words escaped before he realized they were rising. "You'll return, once all of this is over. And I'll escort you."

"Do you mean that?" Terra said before he knew the words were coming out of his mouth, "do you truly thing that's possible?"

Dammit, could he not control himself for one moment? Such a question was inappropriate at a time like this. The prince needed him. For protect. For companionship. He shouldn't be asking about this. Especially when it could not yet be given. There was so much happening right now. Assassinations, plans to assume the throne, and various other things. He shouldn't be thinking so selfishly.

But he couldn't help the thought from giving him  _ hope _ . He wanted to go back to his family. He wanted to go back to his father's house and ensure it was cared for. It was his duty as the eldest to do so. As simple as the grounds were, it needed more than just Aqua and the limited things Ventus could do to tend it. But above all, he simply wanted to be home.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, "I didn't mean to sound eager to leave. You have done far more for me than I ever expected. And I am grateful for it. I just.."

He looked at the shrine again before shaking his head.

"One day, when this is over, I will gladly show you the place myself," he said finally. He stood and walked to the prince. Carefully, he sat on the bed, leaving ample space between them.

"Is there something like that here for you? A place on the castle grounds that you like to go to aside from your rooms?" he asked, looking at the other. Anything to keep this conversation away from his sorrows and longings.

Though the promise had come unbidden, the prince couldn't find it within himself to regret it. Especially when it caused that light to rise within Terra's face -- a light he'd feared was fading. Yes, there would come a day that Terra could return home -- Isa would see to it. No matter how long it took, or what had to be done, Terra would see that little house again. The stable, the wildlife, and the people that lived inside. 

And maybe. . . yes, maybe Isa would have the chance to see it, as well. 

"If I was in your position, I'd be eager to leave," He admitted in reassurance. "My actions can limit the negative aspects of your position, but I'm not naïve enough to think that I can ever make you truly comfortable. And I know I can't replace your home. I take no offense. . . and I do. Mean it. It will take effort, and I can't say exactly when or how . . . but I'll see you back where you belong." 

He shifted on the bed as Terra sat, drawing a knee upward with an elbow resting upon it, and leaned backwards slightly into the pillows. The question had given him pause, and he nearly answered no -- but that wouldn't have been the complete truth. 

" . . . I haven't gotten the chance to go there in quite some time," He began slowly. "But, yes. There's a clearing. A little patio . . . distanced from the main gardens and overlooked, for the most part, by intruders. Moonflowers grow, there, blooming in the night. . . and the view of the stars is unimpeded. It's quiet . . . serene. Like my own little corner of the world." 

Melancholy darkened his expression, then, as he remembered exactly who he'd used to share that place with.

There was no resisting the soft, hopeful smile. Despite his commitment to stay and help the prince, Terra did very much want to go home. Even if it was just a visit or in passing. Just a moment in the familiar comforts would be wonderful. Isa had promised that to him. One day. Maybe not soon, but one day.

He could hold onto that hope for now.

When Isa spoke, he looked at the other curiously. Even he didn't know the entirety of the castle grounds. Then again, it was quite a large area, and he had only been a solider before. He'd only seen the barracks, outer portions, and occasionally inner rooms while standing near open doors. Now he only went wherever Isa did. He'd never explored the grounds.

"That sounds beautiful," he said, closing his eyes to imagine it, "a nighttime sanctuary."

He opened his eyes and noticed the look on Isa's face. Something told him that that place had not been visited for a reason. But why? What could have possibly happened to mark a place so lovely sounding? Had something happened there? Was it gone? He carefully looked away in thought. How to go about asking..?

"Would you like to go there? An outing of just the two of us. If it's often overlooked, it'd likely be safe from anyone that might want to harm you. You could take a break and just enjoy the stars away from any pressure," he said gently. Both an offer for peace as well as a test for more information.

Sanctuary was a good word for it. It was almost as if that simple little clearly had been an entirely different world -- a new land that he'd shared with only one other person, ever. 

The idea of returning was tempting . . . Isa had never gone alone. It wouldn't have been right. It didn't feel right, either, however, to go with Terra. Almost as if it would be an insult to the memory of the person Isa had shared that place with. It had been  _ their  _ space, and remained untouched and preserved now as a memorial. It was the only memorial that person would get. 

No . . . he couldn't go back. But he also couldn't tell Terra why. At least, not the full truth. 

Answer carefully selected, he glanced away from the other man's face and shook his head. "That place is a garden of serenity," He murmured. "With my mind in the turmoil that it's currently in, it would only serve to poison that precious atmosphere. Perhaps one day."

It was obvious that something was not being said. There was something else about that garden that Isa didn't want to tell him. Terra couldn't imagine  _ what _ , but he thought it better not to press. After all, Isa wasn't even looking at him when he spoke. Some things were better left secrets if they only caused pain to remember.

"I can understand that," he said gently, "I wouldn't want my own feelings to cause such a special place to be tarnished. Another day would be better if that's how you feel."

He glanced around the room in thought. It seemed so long ago that they had first truly met. Yet, when he thought about it, there wasn't a lot he honestly knew about the prince. He knew that the prince was one of high moral judgement, but, aside from that, it didn't feel like he truly knew the prince. All the information he had on the other was from watching what the prince did. Not being told.

"You know... if you really want a companion, it might help if we knew each other a little better," he said, hoping it didn't come off as rude.

Rude, no -- but quite startling. Perhaps it shouldn't have been, considering that Terra had already begun to share so much about his home. But it was one thing to have such information gently revealed under the guise of being a distraction, and quite another to have it outright said that they should share personal information. 

It was. . . uncomfortable. 

Yet, Terra was correct. If Isa wanted to be seen as something other than a master, he'd have to make himself knowable. That wasn't something he'd ever done before and, if he was honest, the thought scared him. 

" . . . In what way, exactly?" He asked carefully, barely restraining the impulse the dismiss the idea entirely. Perhaps because some part of him was . . . truly tempted. "What do you have in mind?"

It wasn't the most natural way to have a personal conversation, but they really didn't have another option. They'd both been avoiding actually talking to each other. So if Terra had to be the one to catch the knife, then so be it. Hopefully, it would end well. At least the prince hadn't outright refused. That was a good sign.

"Well, we can simply ask questions to each other. Or talk about something we enjoy. Regardless, we can easily take turns. I'll ask a question, you answer then ask your own. Then I'll answer. In a cycle until we inevitably get off on a subject we both enjoy," he said with a nervous smile, "it seems pretty even to me I think."

It was then that a small bit of what he had suggested registered in his mind. They would be able to ask any question. Maybe... neither of them were quite ready for that. After all, he had questions that he doubted the prince would want to answer.  _ Why save my life? Why are you such a different person than what the stories had said? Why are you so good? _ Maybe he didn't necessarily want the answer himself. It would be better for those questions to come naturally.

He definitely didn't want to answer anything concerning Eraqus..

"But, if there's any questions you  _ don't  _ want to answer, you can just say so, and I'll ask something else," he said, quickly amending his plan, "deal?"

Truthfully, there were plenty of questions that Isa wasn't ready to answer, himself, and he might have denied the prospect entirely if not for the last addendum. What Terra was proposing was certainly a roundabout method of conversation, but . . . well, it wasn't as if the prince had any other ideas. And he certainly had his share of questions . . . 

". . . Very well," He agreed after a moment, then shifted on his bed into a slightly more comfortable position, somehow still managing to look rather stiff. "The same goes for yourself. Neither one of us is under any obligation to answer. Agreed?" 

He sighed, then ran a hand through his hair as part of him wondered what exactly he was getting into. Even if the questions Terra asked were only surface level, it was extremely likely that they would prompt more information than Isa had willing shared about himself in years. 

"Considering you've just shared the nature of your home with me, I think it fair to let you go first. Ask me anything you wish."

"Deal," Terra quickly agreed to Isa returning his offer. Perhaps he sounded a bit too eager to be able to avoid questions. He hoped it wouldn't seem suspicious, though he doubted that would be the case. After all, he and the prince were merely abiding by the same rules. It wasn't as though he was required to answer the prince no matter what. Perhaps he ought to be the smallest bit grateful for that. Most nobles would have never given such an opportunity.

He paused for a moment, mulling over his options. He shouldn't start with anything too personal or deep. But then what could he lead with instead? Maybe it would be best to go simple, even if it seemed silly conceptually.

"What is your favorite color?" he asked with an added awkward and nervous smile, "sorry, drew a bit of a blank on how to start."

It was so  _ innocent  _ a question compared to the possibilities that Isa had been imagining that his mind momentarily came to a halt. Such a simple, innocuous thing, and it had him letting out a startled chuckle. So simple, so  _ silly _ , so . . . 

. . . The amusement faded a bit when the prince realized that he didn't actually know the answer. It was such a simple thing, and he had always been focused on so much more  _ important  _ things, that he hadn't truly given it much thought.

It took what was truly an embarrassing amount of time for him to answer and, when he did, he began slowly. 

" . . . I suppose it's rather macabre, and boring . . . " He said. "But I like darker colors. Rich blues and purples, even gray . . . they contrast with all the gold and white, and garish colors of the court. Gray is painted over and gilded. . . never appreciated for it's simplicity. Wealth is shown with glitter. . . so I suppose I like the opposite." 

He pressed his lips together, then, surprised at how much he'd revealed. Luckily, it was easy to change the subject. " . . . Tell me . . . have you ever done anything simply for enjoyment?"

Terra was surprised at how much had been revealed as well. He thought he would only get a short one, maybe two, word answer. Like blue. Then again, Isa might have been tired of blue considering his hair was a light shade of it. But the answer truly surprised him.

The explanation did not. At least, not as much. It was apparently obvious that Isa wasn't like many of the other nobles. Despite being raised in such finery, he didn't revel in it. Isa honestly seemed tired of it all. At the party, before the chaos had begun, Isa had only seemed to enjoy himself when he had been away from the crowds and when he was no longer forced to partake in shallow conversation. So it was unsurprising that Isa had grown tired of the gaudy, bright colors so often found in such situations.

"I don't think that's boring at all," he commented calmly, "besides, it's your choice what you like, no matter the reason."

He paused in thought at his own question. When he had been younger, there had been many things he had done only for fun. That was just a part of being a child. Running around fields, climbing tall trees, swimming in lakes. Childhood was a time full of play, so there wasn't just one answer. Yet he decided on one that had been constant, even after he had outgrown the more simple enjoyments.

"Yes," he started while smiling softly, "I have always liked to explore the forest area behind my home and look at the plants. More specifically, I would try to identify what they were. It was a game to me when I was a child. I'd make up names for the various plants I found. Then, as I started getting older, I'd take them home and try to find out their true names. My father had quite the library, including a few journals about wildlife, including the natural plants of this region. I ended up copying most of the book on my own, adding the name I made up beside it's real name."

He chuckled a bit at the memory. "What about you? What's something you've done for fun?"

Another question that should have been simple, now giving the prince complete pause. He truly had no idea how to answer, especially after hearing Terra's own answer. Going out into nature. . . examining plants that were often overlooked in favor of paying attention to custom . . . becoming one with that nature and coming to know it like an old friend. 

There was a feeling called from those words, stirring deep within him and causing unfamiliar thoughts to form. Never before had Isa paid much attention to his own desires and pleasure. But, now . . . 

He envied that. He envied a small house in a meadow and days spent with only the company of the forest. He envied a book full of plants, and the ability to name each and every one. Stark contrast to his own talent of naming policies and tradition. 

The faint smile that had found its way to his face quickly faded, and he was once more silent for a few moments before answering. He had to go back a bit in time to even think of something that would answer the question and not reveal too much. 

" . . . I've drawn, on occasion," He said. "I was classically trained when I was younger in art. It's pleasurable . . . though I fear my work lacks any life. Have you experience with anything like that?"

Terra really didn't know why he was sharing so much with the prince. So far, he had just been talking and talking. He'd never been one to do that. So why was he now..? Maybe it was because he missed the things he spoke of.

No, that had to be it. He missed his home. His room. The library. The forest. He missed gathering plants and returning to study them. He missed teaching Ventus all he had discovered that day. He missed cooking with Aqua in the evenings while cool air came in through the windows. He missed his father reading to all of them before bed by their small fireplace.

He missed his father.

He forced all those thoughts away. This was supposed to be a time to learn about each other. Not for him to fall into his sorrow and force the prince to either comfort him or feel uncomfortable.

"I doubt it's as bad as you think. Everyone thinks their art is worse than it truly is," he said gently. Somehow, Isa being an artist seemed... right. He couldn't quite define why, but it was fitting for the prince.

"I only ever sketched the plants for my notebooks," he said while smiling softly, "my brother has far more experience than I when it comes to drawing. His sketches nearly look alive."

He looked up at the prince. "What's your favorite thing to draw? Or, the thing you think you're best at drawing?" he asked, hoping to stay on a fairly safe conversation topic.

The melancholy in the prince's demeanor drained away, replaced by intrigue at the mention of Terra's brother. It was so few and far between that Isa saw art that moved him -- his father wasn't fond of the stuff, and he was only taught as a sort of status symbol to prove that he could. 

"Is that so?" He asked, perked up a slight bit. "I would love to see them, if ever given the chance. That's what I fear is lacking in mine. . . not technical skill, considering the level of training I have, but life. Depth, dynamic, interest. . . it's all absent." 

He sighed and shook his head. ". . . I can't even recall the last time I tried to do something of the sort. I'm always so dissatisfied with the outcome. I wish to capture things. . . landscapes . . . animals. . . perhaps I simply don't have enough experience with them to fill them with the life they deserve." 

An odd thought briefly crossed his mind quickly dismissed and suppressed, though an idea behind it remained. ". . . I suppose I'm most interested in portraiture. Though the fact remains that, for any amount of skill and proportion present in my drawings, I fail to express the personality of my subjects." 

A shake of the head, then, and a change in subject. "For all of the plants that you've catalogued and studied. . . do you have a favorite?"

"I'm sure he'd love to show you, if you ever got the chance. Ven loves to show off his sketches," Terra said with a reminiscing smile. It was easy to remember. Ventus running up to anyone that wasn't busy to show off his latest artwork, gradually gaining skill till the images looked almost real.

"The hardest part is always bringing the painting to life," he said a bit more gently, "I never ran into that problem myself since I'm just sketching plants so they're identifiable. I'm sure you'll be able to capture the subject right if you find something that truly inspires you. At least, that's what I believe concerning art."

At Isa's question, he had to pause and think. He had learned about so many types of plants. Tall, sturdy trees. Useful, hidden herbs. Small, beautiful flowers. It was hard to choice one to call his definitive favorite. He liked many different things for many different reasons. Finally, a memory surfaced in his mind. One that made him smile softly.

"Well, it's not an easy choice, but I would have to choose clover. I know it seems common, almost like grass in frequency. Yet, It's incredibly interesting. While they usually only have three leaves, there are tales of four-leafed ones that bring good luck. I found one once," he said while chuckling a bit, "there really isn't much more too it than that. They have flowers as well that can be easily woven together into wreaths."

He thought for a moment about his own question. "If you weren't a prince, what sort of job would you have? Like a painter or a blacksmith," he asked, listing examples to prevent form sounding vague.

Something that truly inspired him. . . 

Isa had only been inspired once in recent memory. And it had been enough to cause him to defy the king. But that was it . . the only time. Could the feeling extend to art . . . ? He'd have to think more on it later. It was inconsequential at the moment. 

" . . . I think we could use some of that luck, now," The prince replied with a gentle snort. "Perhaps we should go looking through the clover. I've never paid it any mind. Nor have I ever made a wreath of flowers." 

He didn't say how nice the thought honestly was. 

"That's . . .a difficult question, in all honesty," He answered with a frown, pausing for a moment to think through such occupations. ". . . Truthfully, I don't think there's any point in wondering about it. Nor do I think I can truly answer. It's not that I don't want to, but I truly don't think I . . . well, I'm not really good for anything. I don't know how to do anything else at all. So there's no other occupation I could have. What would you do? Were you not a member of the guard?"

For some reason, Terra's mind provided him with a very detailed image. It was of Isa, sitting in far more common clothes, in the middle of a large meadow with a crown of clover flowers around his head. Isa looked... happy within it. He had no idea why such a thought crossed his mind, but now he was oddly determined to make it happen one day. A day where Isa could smile and enjoy a far more simple pleasure. Somehow, he felt like Isa would like that too.

He listened intently to Isa's answer, equally disappointed and unsurprised. It was becoming quickly obvious that the prince saw no value or talent within himself aside from one day becoming king. It was sad, in a way. Had Isa never dreamed of anything else? Not even as a child?

"Sometimes it is nice to wonder," he said gently, "besides, I think you're good for many things. You just haven't gotten the chance to learn that for yourself."

He slowly laid on the back, staring up at the ceiling. "I've always wanted to be a soldier, from the moment I knew my father was one. Though, my idea of a soldier was often more aligned with heroes from fables. But I guess I would be an explorer. Perhaps a map maker. Something that allows me to discover new places and learn more about many things. Especially plants," he said while thinking it all over.

"What's your favorite thing to eat for breakfast?" he asked, hoping to keep from asking any deeper or more personal questions.

An explorer. . . .Yes, that sounded correct. Isa could picture Terra, easily, off on horseback on many a great adventure, no goal in mind but to discover whatever he could. That seemed to be just the sort of spirit he was. 

A spirit that Isa had now trapped inside of his gilded cage with him. 

Terra would never roam, like this. He'd never discover anything but the palace walls. How cruel, to deprive someone of their freedom, and ability to explore their ever so important nature. 

Perhaps it would be better if Isa helped Terra get away. He would take a heavy blow by having let his servant escape, but Terra could take his family and make off to another kingdom entirely. They could wander, explore, and live. Wouldn't that be better . . . ? 

But . . . Isa couldn't. He needed Terra, and he needed him here. How horrid. 

The prince was suddenly quite nauseous, which made the question hard to answer. " . . . I'm not picky, truthfully," He muttered, and it was only a slight lie. "Nothing too sweet. Really, I don't like eating in the morning. . .I'll take a strong tea, however. What's your favorite food, in general?" 

Perhaps he could order it made at some point and alleviate some of this horrid guilt.

Something seemed.. off, now, about the prince. Terra really couldn't quite describe it. Perhaps it was the small difference in the tone of voice. Or the pauses between his words. How could his question have possibly put the other on edge? It had only been about food. Such a thing really couldn't be that personal.

Unless there was something else on the prince's mind. This was the sort of game that led to deep thought. At least, it led to a lot of introspection. Which apparently wasn't a good thing in the prince's case. So far it didn't seem to be helping at least.

Should he call this off? Should he just come up with an excuse to prevent Isa from having to answer more questions? He wanted to learn more about the other, but not at the sacrifice of comfort. Or would the prince be bothered by calling it off? Maybe the prince could just ask questions and no longer answer? No, that wouldn't work either. The prince seemed determined to have them as equals. If he allowed himself to be interrogated, that wouldn't be fulfilling that desire of the prince's. What to do.. Maybe he was overthinking this.

"I suppose it is hard to be hungry in the morning," he said while looking away in thought, "lets see.. I'm an avid eater, so it's hard to pick one. But.. I always liked this venison stew my father made. In the evenings, sometimes, he would hunt when he felt up to it. He somehow always managed to get the best game every time. Maybe it was because no one else lived nearby."

He smiled. "But those were the best nights. Venison with carrots and potatoes from the garden. It was the best. I'm sure there were some sorts of spices mixed in as well, but I really had no idea. I'm not meant for helping much with food. Something always ends up dropped or broken," he ended the statement with a small laugh.

"Have you ever caused trouble on purpose as a child? And I don't mean what you did for me," he said, hoping the last part came off as the joke it was meant to be.

It likely wasn't the game alone that had led to the Prince's current state of introspection. Nevertheless, it wasn't exactly helping, and every seemingly innocent reply that Terra gave, followed by an equally innocent question, only served to drive him deeper and deeper into the hole. 

How wasn't Terra in the same position? He was sitting here, replying to a question that Isa had thought as harmless as possible, recounting a father and a homelife that he'd never see again. 

Yet, he was smiling. How was he smiling? How didn't those words break him? 

Truthfully, Terra held a level of strength that Isa could never comprehend. His own method of facing the horrors of the pass. . . of facing loss . . . consisted of never speaking of the things again. 

But, as typical, that question didn't help matters, nor did the attempt at a joke, though he tried his best to give a hollow smile. 

" . . . For the most part, the trouble I've caused has been for the benefit of the kingdom," He muttered back. "Not much that's been purely rebellious or with the intention of having pure fun. Though there was a brief period of time as a child that I snuck out of the castle for adventures with . . . a friend." 

He swallowed hard, then found himself distracted from his musings by another thought, and a desire to hear more. " . . . Tell me of your own childhood. I know little of life outside of castle walls. What was it like? Before you joined the guard?"

Just as Terra had suspected, something was dreadfully wrong. The prince's voice only got softer, almost mournful. It was so obvious that something was deeply troubling the prince. Especially with that clearly forced smile that didn't even fully form on his mouth, much less reach Isa's eyes.

A friend. Isa had once had a friend as a child. Something told him not to ask too much into it. Not that Isa would likely provide an answer anyways. Such matters tended to be... sensitive. Past friends and childhood memories could lead to warm nostalgia or the return of old mourning. He wasn't going to risk it being the second one.

Isa's question, however, did surprise him. He would have thought Isa would want to stay away from the topic of childhood entirely after that small omission. But if that's the question Isa wanted the answer to, he would give it.

He liked remembering home anyways.

"Well, when I was a young child, it was only my father and I in the house. He had taken me in at such a young age. I didn't know it at the time, but he took a leave from his position in order to care for me. Most days had a loose routine to them. I would wake up an hour after sunrise. We would eat together. I would play for hours, whether outside or in, before being called to eat lunch," he started, staring up at the ceiling as if watching the memories in front of his eyes.

"After then, we would work together. My father tutored me himself. Taught me to read and write. Depending on how well I focused and how hard I worked, I got more time to play before it was time for dinner. Then we would end the day together, either reading or me describing whatever adventure I had had that day," he said with a small smile, "of course, the stories were mostly that I had seen a strange animal or had climbed a very tall tree."

He chuckled slightly. "The routine didn't change much when Aqua joined us. Except that I dragged her along for my adventures. Then, once we were a bit older, our father started going back to the castle everyday. But he was always back in time for dinner. That was when I started learning more about what exactly my father did in the castle and longed to do so myself. It very much was a carefree childhood," he said, his smile turning fond.

"A few years before my own training was to start, Ventus was added to our family. He couldn't quite go on adventures with the rest of us, but he was lively. He was a few years younger than both myself and Aqua. We ended up mostly caring for him while our father was out, but he would stay home more frequently too. Once I started my training, I was gone for months, not getting to go home at all. Needless to say, Ventus was very excited to see me when I first came home," he continued before realizing that he may have been talking a bit too much.

"Ah, sorry, I'm rambling, aren't I?" he said a bit sheepishly. He paused for a moment to think of a question. Little came to mind, really, but he would still try. "Is there anything you really want to go out and see one day? Like some special place you read about that you want to visit?"

Truthfully, Isa should have changed the subject. Initially, he had wanted to -- but he hadn't been able to stop himself. Call it some form of self-punishment, or an inability to know what was best for his own mental health. 

But the question had been asked, and the answer given, and it was somehow simultaneously both full of powerful melancholy and like a soothing balm. Isa listened with rapt attention the entire time that Terra spoke, to the point that he was surprised when the other's words cut off. 

"No, not at all --" He shook his head. "I asked because I wanted to know, and I appreciate you answering in such detail."

It was truly settling in for the prince how different their childhoods had been, and he could feel envy pulling at the strings of his heart. When Terra asked that question, only one place came to mind. 

A small house, in a field, close to nature and full of family. 

But he couldn't exactly say that. 

" . . . I haven't really thought about it . . . " That was a common theme among his answers, wasn't it? " . . . But I suppose somewhere . . . far. Just for a visit, of course. My responsibility is to my kingdom. But the mountains, far to the north. . . or the desert that lies past the boundaries of the kingdom. I've heard it's beautiful, in its own right."

Perhaps it was time to tread back into safer territory for a question. ". . . What is your favorite of the seasons?"

The prince hadn't minded his rambling. Good. That was a relief at least. Terra looked over at the other. Was there anyway to make the prince less melancholy? There had to be some way to do so. He just needed to figure out what.

He smiled a bit at the response. "Mountains are beautiful, though, I've only seen the bigger ones from a distance. I guess I've never been interested in the desert. Mainly because I normally went to places in armor. Hot, metal armor is not pleasant," he said, chuckling a bit.

At Isa's question, he paused to think. There was something to like about each season, in his mind. Summer was good for swimming and spending time outdoors. Fall had the harvest and the various harvest festivals that went with them, not to mention the colorful leaves. Winter, while cold, brought family together, both in celebrations and in order to keep warm. Each had their own special trait. But.. out of all of them, there was only one that stood out just a bit more.

"Spring," he said while thinking through it, "it's as if the world comes back to life then. It gets warmer, and all the plants regrow. Does give birth, so there are several young deer hobbling about. It just feels more.. alive then."

Spring. That made sense. A time of rebirth, hope, and life. . . such an answer was entirely fitting to Terra's character, at least, the bit that Isa had managed to observe. It was almost poetic, really. 

Terra liked spring . . . in a way, perhaps, he was a sort of spring. At the very least, he'd managed to bring life to Isa. And not only in the sense of having saved it. 

"I can see why you'd like it," He answered quietly. "I'm sure it's beautiful by your house that time of year. All sorts of budding plants and animals emerging from the harshness of winter." 

Winter. . . if Terra was spring, then was that what Isa was? He'd often been called cold, and it had been fitting. It would be fitting, for the prince to be winter -- sealed inside of his warm palace while the kingdom froze and starved.

"Winter is beautiful in its own way," Terra said while sitting up on the bed, "the pine tress standing tall. Snow covering the ground. Yes, it's cold, but it's still wonderful. It's like... the world needs time to rest before spring comes. In a way, it's like winter is the break for the earth. The necessary silence before the world gets loud."

He chuckled a bit sheepishly. Here he was, rambling again. Maybe he ought to make sure he wasn't talking for hours when the prince and him were trying to converse. It was not a conversation if only he spoke.

"But, yes, it is beautiful. What about you? Do you have a favorite season?" he asked while smiling encouragingly. This was a time to learn more about the other, not only talk about himself or his more.. perhaps philosophical ideas.

How did the man in front of him manage to find beauty in everything? He smiled gently, even while in captivity, and showed nothing but kindness and loyalty to the one that kept him trapped. 

Beauty in cold winter. Comfort in cruelty. Peace and adoration in nature. So many things that the prince, perhaps pessimistic in nature, never would have noticed. It was somehow simultaneously offputting and intriguing beyond measure. 

"Not particularly," Isa answered with a shake of the head. "Seasons matter little when one spends most of their days inside." That was as much of an answer as he was capable of giving without delving too far into unfamiliar territory. 

He paused, then, to think of a question that would challenge. All of the beauty that Terra found in the world . . . did it have a limit? "What's something you dislike?" He asked rather bluntly.

Suddenly, Terra felt the need to ensure the prince took more stops along the countryside the next time they had some event to attend. It seemed very likely that the prince needed it. Time outdoors, simply viewing the scenery. It wasn't likely to happen, but Isa certainly needed it. Maybe that was why nobles were so pale..

Isa's question immediately stumped him. He had been rambling about things, hadn't he? Seasons, his home, his memories. All of which he had given long winded answers too talking about how he enjoyed each this. It was easy to see where the prince's question was coming from. He truly sounded like some starry-eyed optimist, didn't he? Thus, the question about something he actually didn't like.

A few different sorts of answers popped into his head immediately. There were particular foods he didn't care for. Things like specific vegetables that he had avoided since childhood, including having various stories of how he got out of eating them. There were small irritants like the saddle being crooked and not noticing until it was too late to fix without more work. Or dust flying into eyes while riding. Of course, there were also the vague things he hated like injustice, but that seemed arrogant.

He thought for a moment before something came to mind that made him frown.

"Having a bit of food stuck between my teeth," he said, sounding annoyed at the very thought, "especially when it's in some spot you can't reach. So it's just stuck there while your trying to contort your tongue to get it out, but you can't. Maybe not even for hours. It's infuriating."

He huffed slightly, as if trying to remove the thought. "There's no easy way to remove it either. It's not like you can just ask for someone's help. It gets stuck, and you can do nothing but suffer until it slips out by luck."

After a moment, he looked at the other a bit sheepishly. "What about you? Is there anything small like that that just irritated you to no end?" he asked.

Though it was the sort of answer he'd intended to provoke with the question, Isa was somehow caught off guard. Not by Terra's answer, necessarily -- who did like bits of food stuck in their teeth? -- but by his own reaction to it. 

Terra's visible annoyance -- the little huff -- the slightly embarrassed look on his face after delivering his small rant. 

The prince couldn't have helped it. He laughed. 

It only lasted a moment, and surprised even him, but it was completely genuine, and succeeded for a moment in stilling the whirlwind of thought tearing through his mind. 

"Well, aside from the obvious sorts of things," he replied as the short, quiet round of laughter faded. "I suppose . . . I absolutely detest when my hair is dirty. I try so very hard not to use too much water, but I hate the feeling so much it makes me want to sheer myself like a sheep. The same goes for if I neglect to shave. It's horrifically itchy. Though, of course, part of my reasoning for refusing to grow a beard is to avoid resembling my father."

The laughter caught Terra entirely off-guard. He looked at the prince and blinked in surprise. Had his answer really amused the other that much? His intention hadn't been to be funny. Well, regardless, seeing the prince relax and laugh was a good thing. Wasn't it? It was definitely better than the melancholy look from before.

He smiled at Isa's response. That seemed entirely fitting considering how long Isa took to take his baths. He would know, having to stand and wait outside the bathhouse. He had to admit, Isa had the cleanest hair he had truthfully ever seen.

"I don't think a beard would suit you anyways," he said while letting out a small chuckle of his own, "and I can imagine how annoying it would be to keep that much hair clean. So much could get stuck in it, not to mention the natural grime. Why not style your hair shorter? It would be easier to clean then."

"Heavens, no --" for a moment, the prince looked wildly affronted before he managed to compose himself and shake his head. ". . . Apologies. It's a logical question, and I don't suppose I've given much explanation as to the contrary." 

The subject on his mind, he tossed his hair a bit and ran a hand through it. ". . . There's a few different reasons why I've let it grow, actually. Most to do with my father. Our resemblance is . . . stronger than I would like, and hair color doesn't help. Leaving my hair long prevents me from looking like simply a younger version of him. Additionally, he would like it very much if I cut it, I believe -- so i refuse." 

An almost smug smile graced the prince's features for a moment, gone as quick as it came. "Of course, that's not the only reason. While the kingdom is facing far more strife and . . . skirmishes than I would like, we've managed to refrain from outright war. I've read it's tradition in some kingdoms for rulers to grow their hair in times of peace, and to shear it in times of war to deliver their locks to the ones whom they are challenging. 

"I don't know if I'd go that far with it," he shrugged, "but the sentiment is appealing, is it not? It's my way of preserving a peaceful mindset, I suppose. In contrast to my father's shorn hopes for war." 

Perhaps it was. . . a bit too heavily metaphorical for something as simple as hair. Those weren't actually thoughts that the prince had shared aloud, before, yet they now fell so easily from his tongue. 

He wondered why. 

". . . Do you hold any such symbolisms?" He found himself asking, knowing it was likely futile. Most people hadn't the luxury to put so much thought into things such as this.

The prince was really one full of surprises, wasn't he? Here Terra had asked one, seemingly simple question, and he had gotten at least three in depth answers. For someone so reserved, Isa spoke a lot once something that was important to him was asked. It was obvious that this was something Isa had given much thought to. To the point where such a thorough answer could be given immediately.

It was obvious enough that the prince did not approve of nearly everything his father did. In fact, it sounded like the prince was actively acting out of spite towards the king. Such a thing was unheard of, especially to be said that boldly. Well, Isa was only telling him. There was no way Isa would dare say that in a situation where it could get back to the king. That would end poorly. Very poorly. But it was mostly surprising that the prince would say so at all. It seemed so personal.

The symbolism was interesting as well. It honestly wasn't something Terra had heard of. Kings growing out hair during peace then cutting it for a declaration of war. It was incredibly interesting. Maybe even a good symbol.

"So, I should be worried if you ever cut your hair?" he said, slightly joking.

He paused in thought at the question posed to him. He certainly didn't have anything as grand and thought out as Isa did. But.. it was easy to think of something concerning more recent events.

"I've never been much of a symbolic person, but I think there is one thing that I want to do now," he said while glancing over at the small shrine across the room, "I'm going to start growing out my hair. Just until it's long enough to be styled like my father's was. He had always worn his hair with such pride. I.. want to share in it, if I can."

He looked at the floor for a moment before looking back at the prince, a new question itching at the back of his mind.

"Why.. did you do these things for me? Helping me... when you didn't have to. Why?" he asked quietly.

In all seriousness, the words that Isa spoke could be considered tantamount to treason. If they were overheard by the wrong person, it wouldn't go well at all. The king took such matters so seriously, as did the majority of the rest of the court, that . . . 

. . . Well, prince or not, if these words met with the wrong ear, then Isa would find himself in an extremely dangerous position. One that Terra would have recognized very well. 

Why, then, did he speak them? Why did he say them aloud, to another human being, who could very well attempt to turn them against him? 

Perhaps it was because he understood the difference in their positions. It would be his word -- mostly respected -- against that of an accused murderer and bedservant. There was no contest in who would be more likely to be believed. 

Yet, it was likely something beyond that that kept the words falling freely from Isa's lips, or at least more freely than typical. And that something was not currently able to be recognized. 

Neither was the answer to Terra's question. Yet, somehow, it was one that Isa had expected, and one of the ones more easier answered from what had been asked this day. 

" . . . I don't know," He answered truthfully, and those his voice was guarded the words came relatively quickly. " . . . I don't suppose I consider it anything special. I'm simply doing what any reasonable person would, am I not?"

Why did that answer bug Terra just a little?

Perhaps he had truly wanted some deep explanation. Something to bring some sort of reason to all of this. A reason why the prince would do so much for  _ him _ . Someone who, by all accounts, should have been given nothing. If anything, everything should have been  _ taken  _ from him. The prince owed him nothing.

So why? Why had the prince given him so much? Yes, the prince's character and morals certainly prevented him from  _ taking  _ anything from Terra, but Isa wasn't required or expected to do so  _ much _ . So why did Isa do it? He didn't doubt that it was out of kindness. But why care? They had been strangers before this. They had still been strangers when Isa had constructed the shrine. When Isa had done  _ all  _ of this for him.

He didn't understand.

"You've done more than that," he said quietly. He didn't really know how to explain it all, but it was the truth. Isa had done far more than just common decency. Even in the strange circumstances. Did Isa really not see that? Did Isa really not have a reason  _ why _ ?

It wasn't that Isa didn't have another explanation, but that he had too many. 

What was a person to  _ say  _ to that? He could have written a novel. Yet, somehow, he couldn't vocalize a single word. 

". . . I've done nothing I shouldn't have," he replied after several beats of pure silence. "And I haven't done near as much as I would like." 

For a moment, he left it at that, knowing that Terra was likely confused. This situation was complicated and, from an outsider's perspective, Isa had had no reason to spare Terra from the axe to begin with. He could only imagine the confusion and nerves that were racing through the other man's mind. Yet, he could do nothing at all to quell them. 

At least, not without admitting things that the prince knew he was nowhere near ready to face.

That answer only left more questions.

Terra knew that Isa had restrained himself from doing certain things. Well, Isa hadn't needed to keep himself from it. Isa simply had a higher moral standard and had no interest in the awful things that  _ could  _ have happened. So that part of the answer was simple. At least Terra  _ understood  _ it.

But what did the rest of it mean?

What more did the prince wish to  _ do _ ? Was it merely something like the courtesies that he had been shown already? Or was it more than that? What more could there possibly  _ be _ ? Somehow, the thought of the answer put him on edge.

He was quiet for several moments. No clear response formed. He didn't have another question. He was afraid of what answer he would get if he pressed further. He still wanted to  _ know _ , but he doubted he would get anything that made it clearer.

"Well... I thank you for what you have done," he said softly, "it's been far more than I could have ever expected."

Hopefully someday he would understand  _ why _ .

Terra wasn't alone at all in his feelings. Despite his own supposed position of power, every aspect of this situation had been far more than Isa expected, as well. He'd known, when he'd stopped Terra's beheading, that he was doing something important -- yet even then, he hadn't understood exactly how much. 

That decision had come to mean more than he'd ever anticipated --  _ Terra  _ had come to mean more than he'd ever anticipated. And Isa wasn't sure where to begin sorting that out. 

" . . . You don't have to thank me," He said. "All things considered, your situation is still far less than ideal. I've given you the bare minimum, and . . . " 

He hesitated, and for a moment the guilt within his heart found its way to his face before falling once more under regal composure. " . . . I've used you. For my own purposes. That's not an action that deserves any thanks in exchange for the bare bones of human decency."

The expression of guilt had been missed, as Terra was looking away, but the implication of guilt in the prince's voice was far too obvious. He looked at the other to see the carefully crafted face on Isa. Impassive and hiding any emotion that could should. Unsurprising, but.. troubling.

Surely, the prince wasn't genuinely upset with himself over what had happened? Terra certainly didn't blame Isa. How could he? Isa was the only reason he was even  _ alive  _ right now. How could he be anything but grateful? Even if he was only receiving the "bare bones of human decency" it was far better than the fate he'd nearly had.

Not to mention, he had vowed a long time ago to service the royal family and his country. This was never the way he had imagined doing so, but he was still doing what he had always wanted. Protecting the prince from danger. Keeping his country from falling into chaos. If he had to wear strange clothes or act in certain ways, he would do it.

"Isa," he said while looking in the other's eyes, "you saved me. Without you, I would be dead. There would have been no hope to see my family or clear my name. You have given me a chance... and a purpose. Even with the differences, I am still a guard. That's what I had always wanted to be. I don't care if there is more I could be given, or if the situation isn't perfect. It will never be perfect. I am merely grateful for what I have, for it is far more than I could have ever expected once I was dragged into that throne room."

"So please," he said softly, "do not feel guilty for doing what was necessary. One day this will all be set right. But not today. So don't... think you have done nothing."

A single hand fisted tightly in the sheets at the prince's side; the only external sign of his struggle. 

It would be so very easy to believe Terra's words. At least -- in theory. It would be easy to play hero. He had every right to -- after all, had he not swept Terra ever so swiftly away from certain demise? 

If only the reality that Isa had pulled him into was  _ better _ . 

Too prideful to look away, he held his servant's eyes, and listened intently to every word spoken. Feelings festered within him, unpleasant and with no way to be resolved. So he had no choice but to listen. 

Ultimately, Terra was right. Even if his death would have been a simpler end, with how things were now there was  _ hope _ . Hope for a brighter future. . . to set things right. Even if the day it occurred was far, far in the future. 

So Isa would hold onto that, and he would see to it that Terra  _ made  _ it to that future. It was the least he could do, having asked this one man to act as his primary line of defense to ensure he reached his own. 

" . . . Are you truly alright with this?" He found himself asking, dumbfounded, brow knitting together. "Does your optimism have no end?"

The second question was honestly easier to answer than the first. While Terra had never considered himself optimistic, he certainly tried to keep a more positive outlook. At least, he certainly avoided only thinking negatively. The world's problems always just seemed a bit easier when he focused on the better things. Things like hope or family. Perhaps that was a bit optimistic, but he knew better than to ignore reality.

And the reality was painful. In blunt terms, he was falsely condemned for murdering his own father, and his only hope of survival had come from being taken by the prince. Far from home or family. Alone in a castle that believed him a killer and hated him for it. Stuck in a position where few even considered him a  _ person _ , much less one deserving of respect or decency. It may not be years until he could truly be free or with his family again.

He would have to be alright with that. For now.

"Yes," he said after being quiet for a moment, "I am alright with this. I am alive, which is more I could have hoped for. And I am being cared for by someone with the authority to prevent any harm from coming to me, which would have otherwise happened. It is far from the perfect situation, but it is far better than what  _ should  _ have ever happened. For that, I am grateful. And for that, I will repay you by keeping you safe from harm like you are me."

He paused for a moment before smiling sadly.

"It isn't optimism, Isa. It's hope. If that ever ends, there will be far greater problems when my comfort," he said softly.

Hope. 

It was a funny thing. Simple, and unfortunately fragile. Simultaneously, however, it was powerful -- a complex construct, intangible lifeblood driving people forward. Isa had never given it much thought . . . not directly. But, he supposed, it was driving him forward, as well. Hope for a better future -- that he'd ascend, repair the damage dealt by prior hands, and set things right. 

Hope . . . it was what had brought him to Terra. A look of desperation, fleeting and  _ alive _ , flickering over his face in the courtroom. Then, after he'd stopped the fall of the axe, shining. . . bright. 

He'd seen that hope start to fade, in the early days of Terra's captivity; that lifeblood ebbing away. That wasn't something he'd now allow to happen. 

". . . I suppose you're right," He muttered, turning his gaze to the bed in front of him. "One must hold onto something, or life holds little meaning. Once that hope for a better future has fled. . . . " 

He hesitated, head tilting thoughtfully to the side. " . . . I believe  _ that's  _ when someone truly dies. Something important flees from their eyes, and it's as if the life within them has fled long before the beating of their heart has stopped."

Terra had never been a philosophical person, but this might be the only area in which he had any stand in such conversations. After all, that was one thing he actually knew about. Hope. It seemed like such a childish thing to think of. Hope was the sort of thing that was talked about at great length in epics or folk tales. Right alongside fate. 

Perhaps that was due to how closely they wove together. Either in tandem or opposition. Someone following the hopes they had to their fate or using hope to fight against their fate. Childish, yes, but no less inspiring to the heart. That was the point of the stories after all. To invoke excitement and hope in children.

Such a thing was out of place here, but Terra couldn't help feel a spark of hope reside in his chest anyways.

"I can agree with that," he said while staring up at the ceiling, "without hope, it's much easier to simply.. give up. You can live for your loved ones, yes. But that's also with the hope that you can be with them or that you can ensure their safety somehow. At least the knowledge that they're there and well can sustain you, but without hope, it's just like they were any other people that you'll never be with again."

He glanced at Isa. "Sounds like you've given this a lot of thought," he said, "it's from the poetry you read, isn't it?" He smiled a bit, clearly trying to be playful.

That look of playfulness, so out of place in this messy situation, made the prince feel rather odd. He'd always been a pessimist, in addition to exceedingly serious. 

Yet, he couldn't help but laugh quietly in response to the question, shaking his head a bit. "Perhaps. Or perhaps the poetry appeals to me as a result of my predisposition towards such thought. Perhaps I simply have too much free time." 

He fell quiet, then, turning his head to look out the window. ". . . I have had quite a bit of time to think, after all. Which I suppose is a good thing. It's not as if I'd be good for anything if I didn't. 

He sighed, shaking his head again, then glanced back towards his servant. "It's all well enough, I suppose. Whatever drives one forward. Hope is fitting for you -- I can see it in your eyes."

That statement caused Terra to glance at the prince in both confusion and concern. Did the prince truly think he was not good for anything without his thoughts? While there was probably a philosophical argument to be had, it was obvious that those words had been said for another reason. How could the heir to the kingdom not see any worth in himself? It was one thing to be humble. This felt like it was deeper than that.

He really wasn't sure how to respond. He felt as though he  _ should  _ say something. Something to encourage the prince. Yet, it didn't feel like his place to say. After all, they hadn't known each other  _ that  _ long, plus, anything he said likely wouldn't seem genuine since they were so different from each other.

The last sentence sufficiently distracted Terra, at least.

"Is that why?" he asked quietly, "my eyes are what made you stop them? Is that it?"

It wasn't that the prince didn't think he was worth anything. No, Isa knew for a fact he was worth quite a  _ lot _ . His life was important; as were his actions, his mind, and carefully cultivated values. 

If his life weren't important, there wouldn't be so many people trying to snuff it out. 

No, Isa was  _ too  _ important. But not beyond what he was capable of achieving. It was his actions -- his plans -- what he  _ represented  _ that mattered, not the man himself. If he were to suddenly lose the ability to contribute to his kingdom, he'd be worth less than nothing. Worse than dead. 

He was quiet as Terra asked that question -- he'd figured Isa out in a matter of seconds. Something that most people hadn't achieved over the course of his entire  _ life _ . 

Expression unreadable, he met those eyes. "You looked at me," He began. "That's not something most people do. You looked to me, and you were desperate. But it was something else -- something beyond fear, or begging to be saved. You were scared, yes, but it wasn't just not wanting to die -- you wanted to  _ live _ . It was clear you had something to live for. 

Finally, most of an answer as to why any of this was even happening. It made sense as well. If the positions had been reversed, Terra would have been at least curious himself. None would expect a true murderer to have something they desperately wanted to live  _ for _ . Yes, few would want to  _ die _ , but most when they got to that state cared about little other than themselves.

He stared into the prince's eyes. It was hard to read exactly what the prince was thinking, but the words explained enough for him to be satisfied for now.

"Have you found it?" he asked quietly. 

He wouldn't deny it, he  _ did  _ have something to live for. He wanted to protect and be with his family. He wanted to make his father proud. He wanted to be a legacy of a great man that could do his own great things. Most of those seemed impossible now, but, at least, he could find a way to care for his family. That was what he had wanted. More than anything else. And that's how it still was. The question was, did the prince know that and believe it?

At first, even after hearing those early assurances of Terra's loyalty, the prince hadn't trusted a single word. There was always the chance that Terra was tricking him, simply to stay alive. Realistically, that was still possible. Everything that Terra said could be carefully crafted in the aim of something else. 

The reasons that Terra had to live for could have been a great deal more sinister. 

But that possibility no longer held weight in Isa's mind. The doubt had faded the night that Terra had saved him from that first assassin, and it had only declined further since. It was safe to say, after everything had happened, that Isa had made the right decision in stopping the execution and claiming Terra for his own. 

It was safe to say . . . 

" . . . I've found far more than I ever expected." A simple answer, to a simple question. Except they weren't. They never would be.


	19. Chapter 19

Days passed without incident.

There were occasional meetings in which Terra would subtly give the prince advice. But each were carefully given to avoid the same mistake from the first meeting. It was far easier for Terra to act impassive and emotionless at the meetings. Even when things were said that would make his blood boil, he held his tongue. Usually, whatever rash or poor statement had been made was addressed by either the prince or Yen Sid.

Of course, that was the main thing that kept Terra calm. Seeing Yen Sid far more at peace than before helped Terra find the peace he needed himself. It had passed the traditional period of mourning, so Yen Sid no longer wore his mourning clothes. But it was clear that the man was tired. Somehow, Terra felt as though his presence at the meetings helped. If only as evidence that he continued to be healthy and himself.

Other than that, the days were calm and filled with an almost quiet understanding. Terra and Isa spoke most days after meetings, expounding on details that Terra hadn't been able to give in front of the others. It was getting easier and easier to talk to each other. Not just about their situation or battle strategy.

As always, it seemed, just when things were starting to get comfortable, they received a letter. One that invited the prince to the house of a noble for an entire week. Terra didn't know exactly why, but it seemed important. Thus, the two of them set to packing all they would need and prepared to leave. It would be a long carriage ride, but at least none would be alone during it.

"Isn't it nice to be out of the castle?" Terra asked the prince while they were well on their way to the noble in question.

The trip away was both a blessing and a curse. At least the days prior hadn't been torture on the prince's mental health . . . in fact, they'd gone a bit  _ too  _ smoothly for him to feel comfortable. Nothing had happened with Terra, there had been no assassination attempts, no nobles acting more insufferable than usual . . . 

It was terrifying. Like some sort of calm before a storm. 

Perhaps that's why he felt himself unable to relax, sitting poised and stiff with his gaze fixed out the carriage window as they rode. This was an opportunity, not only to network, but to take a bit of  _ vacation _ . 

It wasn't something that the prince was, apparently, good at. 

"Hm?" He hummed distantly, blinking a bit out of his daze as he tried to focus on what Terra had asked. Having missed him at first, it took him a moment, but he eventually nodded. "Oh. Yes, I suppose. Though I hate to think what they'll get up to while I'm gone."

"Nothing irreversible, I'm sure," Terra said with a bit of a reassuring smile, "try not to think about it for now. That can be a problem for when you get back. Why not try to appreciate this time? You get to see more than stone for once."

He was attempting to keep the tone light and teasing. By this point, he was able to tell when the prince was tense. It was especially obvious now, with how the prince managed to stay rigged even with the rocking of the carriage. Surely, Isa couldn't be this stiff the entire time? This was their one chance to relax a bit. No one would expect the prince to constantly make a show here. This was meant to be a leisurely visit. Not a party or show of power.

Thus, it was Terra's goal to find a way to make the prince relax while here. A walk by the lake or through a forest. Someplace where they could be away from others so they could drop any act and simply enjoy themselves. This certainly seemed like the best place to do it. The letter had mentioned, a bit haughtily, that the scenery was serene and beautiful. He was definitely looking forward to it after so long in the castle. He was an outdoors person. That was simply his nature.

"By the time we get there, it will be time for dinner then retiring for the night. Nothing to worry about there either," he said with a gentle smile, "it's okay to relax, Isa. I'm here."

Somehow, those words were simultaneously comforting and sickening. 

_ I'm here. _ Said gently, yet with such confidence, as if Terra could hold back all of the evils of the world with his bare hands. He certainly had staved away far more darkness than he'd had a right to, already . . . 

But he was only mortal, and in a very vulnerable position. It wasn't fair to him to bear this burden; that of protecting Isa, not only from assassins, but from his own thoughts. The prince wouldn't have the servant seeing it as his responsibility to  _ comfort  _ him. 

"Yes, I suppose you're right . . . " He muttered with a sigh. "Perhaps the fresh air will do me good, if I can get out of my thoughts for long enough to enjoy it."

Terra glanced out the window of the carriage. Perhaps he was a bit biased, but he'd never found anything more beautiful than the open country or forests. Open areas where nature grew freely. Even farmland had that appeal. He could spend days walking through fields or forests and be perfectly content. Especially after being within the castle for so long. Stone walls were simply not meant for him. At least not for long periods of time.

Maybe that's why he had been so eager for this. While he would still have duties to attend to, he would at least be a little more free in a sense. Instead of being kept in a stone castle for days, he would be more outdoors. That alone would make everything so much easier.

"It'll do more good than you can imagine," he said with a smile while still looking out the window, "maybe there will even be a chance for us to go swimming. There is a lake there, right? I bet it's beautiful."

Ah, yes, there it was. Another source of the prince's anxiety that Terra had zeroed in on perfectly, entirely without meaning to. At least, Isa  _ thought  _ it unintentional, though it seemed odd that Terra wouldn't have put it together. . . 

As nice as it was to have a change of scenery, Isa couldn't help wishing that scenery  _ didn't  _ include a lake. In fact, he wished it very much, and felt a surge of nerves stirring deep in his belly. 

Perhaps he should tell Terra. . . it would likely be wise. But, for some reason, his pride refused to let him. 

Isa couldn't swim. 

He was royalty of a land-locked kingdom -- why would he have ever learned? 

Outwardly, he only muttered "Yes . . . perhaps."

Terra remained mostly ignorant of Isa's specific apprehensions, but it was clear that Isa was nervous. Well, he'd just have to do his best to change that over the course of their stay. Few people knew they were here. It was a guarded estate. And he would protect the prince from anything that somehow managed to learn where they were and found their way in. There was no need to be worried about safety.

He did notice that Isa didn't  _ sound  _ particularly thrilled. He almost thought to comment on it before simply changing his mind. Isa wouldn't want him to press too much. He would be considerate with that.

It wasn't much longer before they arrived at the estate. A large, stately manor rose above the treeline. A square of land was cut out around the actual main house in order to support a lush garden of flowers and fanciful hedges. Tall trees lined the outside of the area, standing strong and proud as though they were guards. Mountains painted the background. In clear view was a path that led to an impressive lake, surrounded by boardwalks and gazebos. It was truly a beautiful sight.

And Terra stared happily at every bit of it.

Of course, he quickly controlled himself. Now was time for the bit of acting. He straightened his clothes the best he could from the travel and looked at the prince.

"Ready, your Highness?" he said with a soft, almost teasing look.

Isa definitely wasn't thrilled, and he'd be just as content if this so-called vacation didn't exist at all. He didn't care about the grand house, fancy gardens, or the decor that surrounded the lake. It was alright, he supposed, but it wasn't his first time seeing such things, and he wasn't very easily impressed. 

No, the scenery didn't impress him. 

What  _ did  _ impress him was his servant's visible happiness. Even in such a position . . in such a state, and in such  _ clothing _ , the man was  _ happy _ . He looked near giddy to be exploring the grounds. 

It was hard for that happiness not to be at least the slightest bit infectious. 

"Certainly," He said with a quiet snort in response, stepping in front of the other and beginning to walk down the path towards the main house. "Whatever's ahead is likely more fun than sitting in the carriage all day." 

Without incident, they arrived at the main house and greeted their host, who directed them to their guest chambers. At least this venture was progressing better than the ball . . . 

Of course, now came the aspect of socialization, which was sure to exhaust the prince quickly. He bade Terra's happiness give him strength.

This wasn't the ideal situation. Terra was under no illusion concerning that. He'd much rather be in such a beautiful place unhindered by any sort of responsibility. Perhaps it was a selfish wish, but he simply couldn't help it. Exploring the forest around the lake was so tempting. Especially with the weather being so nice. There was still time before sunset in which such a thing could be done. Plus, so many animals showed themselves at dusk. It would be a wonderful sight.

But, that wasn't what he was here for. He had a duty to the prince, not to mention he couldn't go out by himself in his current position. He would have to content himself with going outside with Isa whenever Isa wished to. It was enough to simply see such beautiful scenery and be outside of the castle for a time. He could be content with that.

Once they were alone in their room to get settled before dinner, he went about checking the area for any sort of hidden dangers. While they  _ should  _ be safe as guests here, one could never be too careful. There didn't seem to be any sort of traps set for the prince. The window was above a line of shrubbery that would likely cushion a fall. There were no obvious secret entrances into the room. For all intents and purposes, the bedroom seemed secure.

He sat down in front of his trunk and started digging through his clothes. It would be better to be in something.. fresher for dinner. The clothes he'd been travelling in were growing uncomfortable.

"It's nice that we have a moment to ourselves before dinner," he said while holding up various things and placing them back down, "I've checked the room. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. There shouldn't be anything dangerous here. So we can really relax."

He looked up at the prince and smiled a little.

Relax? 

Gods. The implications of that word. 

Isa wasn't honestly sure when the last time he'd relaxed even  _ was _ . Light, had he  _ ever _ ? It certainly seemed impossible  _ now _ , or perhaps beyond impossible, considering everything they were both facing. 

Three people had tried to murder him within the span of a month, with no signs of the attempts slowing, and Isa was supposed to  _ relax _ ? 

Well . . . he did suppose the change in location would chase the assassins from his back. And Terra  _ had  _ been rather thorough in examining the room for tampering. . . 

Then, he'd flashed that idiotic smile. A smile in the face of all of the mess. . . typical. 

It did its job, and the prince felt tension -- at least some of it -- melting from his shoulders. 

". . . Yes, thank you," he replied with a grateful nod. After removing his outer robe, the one designed for travel, he made his way to a basin of water that had been laid out for them and began to wash his hands and face. "Do forgive my paranoia, I'm a bit on edge. I'm certain this is a rare opportunity . . . One we should take advantage of. If fate stays with us, our trip should pass without incident."

Perhaps it wasn't really Terra's duty to make sure the prince was  _ emotionally  _ well. He was only meant to prevent physical threats. Those that would try to hurt or even kill the prince. That was what he defended against. Yet, he wanted to do more. After all, Isa had done things to ensure he was as happy as he could be in this situation. Letting him have as much freedom as possible and making it possible to talk to those he wished.

It was only fair that Terra returned it somehow.

He eventually figured out what would likely be the most appropriate thing to wear. After all, he had to look his part while still being mostly covered. They didn't know who all was here. No need to be unnecessarily showy. He gathered it in his arms and stepped behind the screen to change, making sure his knife was secure on his back.

"It's not something you need to apologize for," he said bluntly from behind the screen, "you have reason to be cautious. I'm just trying to ease it the best I can."

He stepped back out once changed, now in a bit more fanciful clothes than those meant for travel. "And for what fate doesn't cover, I'll make up the difference. Don't worry, Isa," he said with a gentle smile towards the other in the mirror, "nothing is going to happen except some social interaction."

There it was, again -- that overconfident, inappropriately cheery and optimistic attitude that the prince found so very confusing. And perhaps, just the slightest bit endearing. 

Well . . . at the very least, it confused him enough to replace a bit of his tension, and Isa found himself returning the smile behind his servant's back with a shake of the head. 

"You say that as if that sort of thing isn't terrifying enough in its own right," he mused back, though his tone was lighter and amused. "I'd almost pray for an assassin to come interrupt several of the stuffy conversations I'm sure to be facing." 

After having finished washing, he moved behind the changing screen, himself, to change into lighter clothing. It was a good deal hotter here than he'd anticipated. Distantly, he wondered if Terra realized just how much of a show of trust that was. To stand, bared, behind a screen, with his gaze turned away from someone he was holding captive. . . someone he'd  _ armed  _ . . . 

And to not feel the slightest bit nervous.

"Well, this is meant to be a more casual visit, isn't it?" Terra asked while facing away from the screen. Maybe that was unnecessary, but he felt the need to do so. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally disrespect the prince's privacy.

Some part of his mind did know that this entire situation involved trust. He trusted the prince to treat him as close to an equal as possible in this circumstance. In turn, the prince trusted him to protect his life. In an odd way, they both held the other's lives in their hands. A full exchange. Protection from others and each other.

He didn't feel nervous turning his back to the other. Not for a moment.

"Hopefully, no one will demand anything too bothersome. It's not like there will be any parties where you have to dance with every person in the room a few times. The most it'll be is conversation. Surely, that can't be  _ too  _ bad since we'll be in the formal dining hall. Most unpleasant conversation happens away from the table," he mused while sitting on a likely far too cushioned chair. It was difficult to sit comfortably in.

"Yes, well, my last experience with formal dining away from my own home was less than pleasant," Isa called, amused, from over the screen as he changed. He was, truthfully, feeling a good deal lighter than before. . . and this venture wasn't likely to be near s unpleasant as the duchess' birthday party, even without his near death. 

After a moment's pause, during which he pulled his shirt over his head and allowed Terra to reflect on the statement, he continued. ". . . After all, the wine was simply terrible." 

After tucking the loose, front-laced shirt he was wearing into his breeches, the prince emerged from behind the screen. He was dressed simply; this was one occasion where he could get away with it. Shirt, trousers, and boots -- not even a circlet or other symbol of regality. For just a little while, at least. 

It felt nice. 

"Are you ready?" he asked his servant as he strapped on his belt.

Ah, the prince did have a point about the last dinner party they had attended. That had been an unpleasant experience. Of course, that was putting it extremely lightly. Terra in no way wanted a repeat of that. Maybe he ought to offer to try the prince's food first or at least inspect it. Just as a precaution.

"I'll have to take your opinion on the wine," he said, keeping the conversation light despite knowing what Isa  _ truly  _ meant by that, "I've never been much for the stuff regardless.

He looked up at Isa from where he sat. It wasn't often that Isa dressed so simply when leaving the room. Was this a sign that Isa was going to relax into this place? He hoped so. There was no apparent danger here, and there were no known enemies either. They could just enjoy their time here and maybe relax. Take a break.

"I'm ready," he said while trying to stand up. Except, the chair wouldn't let him. It was too... plush, and he was sinking into it. It likely looked ridiculous, but he couldn't get up. "Um.. this chair is extremely hard to get out of."

It would be one of the more difficult things that he'd ever tried to do, but the prince actually  _ was  _ determined to relax. The opportunity to do so was rare, and he should take it as it came. Who knew when he'd get another chance? Besides, if he wasn't killed by an assassin, the constant levels of stress he maintained would certainly do him in if he allowed the process to continue. 

He'd been gathering a few last-minute items and tucking them into a pouch on his belt when he heard Terra speak. Blinking, he turned to the other man, unable to help his lips twitching in amusement as he observed his predicament. 

"Well, that's rather unfortunate . . . " he hummed, looking for a moment as if he were debating helping at all. Light, that was simply too  _ funny  _ . . . "My strong and noble personal guard, defeated by a chair. I will never recover from the shame. 

A faint smile on his face, he offered a hand in assistance.

"How will  _ you  _ recover from the shame?" Terra countered immediately while trying to steady himself. 

Who thought this chair was suitable for use? Clearly, that person hadn't even sat in it to test it. Or even looked at it close enough. Some artisan that person was. Unless this was an intentional trap. In which case, it was very successful.

After a moment of struggle, he gave in. His pride wasn't terribly wounded, but he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed. What kind of trained soldier got stuck in an overstuffed chair? It was ridiculous. So, he took the prince's offered help to free himself from the chair. It was  _ far  _ better to be standing upright. Especially after  _ that _ .

"Thank you," he said sheepishly, "I had no idea that thing was a trap. I would have been more careful had I known. Maybe there is an enemy here after all, and they attempted to catch you with overly soft furniture. It's inescapable alone."

After staring at his servant for a moment with an unreadable expression, the prince snorted in amusement. That wasn't a feeling he felt often . . . yet, perhaps entirely due to Terra's antics, his heart felt lighter than it had in quite a long time. 

Perhaps this  _ would  _ prove to be a bit of a vacation. It was certainly off to a decent start. 

"If that's the most that they have planned for me, I suddenly feel remarkably safe," he replied. For a few moments, his hand lingered on Terra's, and even Isa wasn't sure why. Finally, he pulled it back, tucking it into his belt instead. "After all, my extremely competent guard appears to have already conquered the first of their horrid, cushy traps." 

With that, he moved towards the door, feeling almost excited to catch a breath of fresh air. Perhaps he could finally find some time to himself . . . 

. . . Well, himself and Terra.


	20. Chapter 20

In all honesty, Terra didn't know why his hand lingered either. Yet, he almost hated to let go. He was freed from the confines of the plush chair. He didn't need to keep holding the prince's hand. But the feeling had been almost pleasant. Personal in a way he hadn't often felt. Maybe that just spoke to how much he missed the more casual affection of his family. He decided not to dwell on that thought.

"All I do is to protect you. Even if it means being forever trapped," he said with a dramatic bow. He smiled up at the other before following.

Everything pointed to this being the perfect getaway. No important meetings. No need for a full show. And most importantly, no assassins. A true and real break. Of course, he would remain vigilant, just in case, but he was excited to get more rest. It wasn't just the prince that found it difficult to sleep, especially on windy nights that made the windows rattle.

In moments, the light feeling that had managed to settle ever-so-rarely over the prince's demeanor had been infiltrated by that same cold, sick feeling that occurred whenever he was reminded of Terra's position. " _ Even if forever trapped . . . _ “

Terra was trapped, wasn't he? And not just in a chair. His very existence was a prison, and he was bound to Isa out of necessity and gratitude, in addition to what may very well have been misplaced loyalty. Not for the first time -- not in the slightest -- the prince found himself wondering to what extent he was taking advantage of his servant. . . 

A kiss in a garden . . . 

No. There was no time to think about this, now. If Terra  _ was  _ trapped. . .well, then Isa would simply have to see to it that he stopped being so at the earliest opportunity. That was an oath -- to Terra, and to himself, and it was one that Isa would never dream of breaking. 

He said not a word as they ventured outside, wandering along the edge of the promenade before making their way outside. A few other guests were mingling around, taking in the sights and part of a small offering of refreshments, as well as the warm afternoon air. The ground beneath their feet was soft and nicely kept; the plants that lined the stone pathways just now beginning to bloom. 

It was, to be quite honest, heavenly. 

The prince found himself letting out a breath, eyes turning away from the estate and towards the visible waterfront. Luckily, no one present attempted to make conversation besides the occasional polite bow. Very different from their last outing, indeed. 

Very nice. . . And what was nice, in particular, was the faint sound of an exotic but soothing sort of music.

The moment the pair stepped outside, Terra felt a rush of relief. Finally, he was outside and free from all the stuffy, stale air of the castle. There was actual, soft dirt, the kind that was perfect for plants to grow, not hardpacked and mixed with rocks meant solely for carts and carriages. Walking didn't hurt at all like it did after walking on the stone paths of the castle. Plus, there were actual plants. A border of trees around the area. Oh, what he wouldn't give to just spend an hour exploring the forest.

But he had a job to do. He wasn't totally free from his duties just because he was in a calmer place. While unlikely, there could still be enemies. He needed to be vigilant. Look around and watch for enemies. And if his eyes lingered on a particularly beautiful flower, it wouldn't be a problem.

Terra followed the prince as he walked through the garden. There weren't that many people around. So he could relax. Shoulders releasing long-held tension even as his posture remained strong.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he couldn't help but whisper to the other as they walked, "trim but not to the point of looking rigid." He glanced around at the plants for a moment before returning his attention to Isa. "It's the perfect day for a walk too. Such cool weather."

Terra's observations weren't wrong -- not in the slightest. The prince hummed in acknowledgment while giving a subtle nod. Something prevented him from looking directly in the other's direction . . . 

Perhaps he wasn't prepared for the sight of Terra's visible excitement. Something about it was rather . . .  _ captivating  _ . . . rather  _ appealing  _ . . . the sort of feeling that led to mistakes happening such as that which had happened in the last foreign garden they'd visited. 

Which Isa  _ refused  _ to let happen again. 

As they walked, the sound of music grew closer until they came upon a small crowd gathered in a cobblestone square. In the center of the square was a fair-haired minstrel, grinning as he plucked away on an odd looking string instrument. The music emanating from it was lively and almost hypnotic in a fashion, and far different from the sort of thing that Isa was used to hearing. 

Unable to help himself, he slowed to a standstill and watched the player's slender fingers dance along the strings.

Visible excitement remained on Terra's face. He simply couldn't help it. Not as he watched the few wispy clouds slowly move across the sky. Not with the sunlight on his face. Not with the smell of the lake and forest mixing together in his mind. It was a sorely missed feeling that he was getting back. Even if just for a moment. He'd choose to savor it.

Though, he couldn't help but be distracted by the music himself.

While his father had always tried to make sure that he was well  _ read _ , it was difficult to bring new music from different places to show others. He'd never heard anything like this. The instrument itself looked so strange compared to what he'd seen before. There were far more strings than he'd ever seen on any sort of instrument, as well as knobs along one side of the neck. Yet the musician was able to play it so masterfully. It was mesmerizing.

Yet, it felt like it ought to be danced to. Not a slow, formal dance like the ones at balls. But a lively dance, full of movement and laughter. Almost like the small festivals from his childhood. Music meant for celebration and fun, not show and status. The thought almost made him want to try. To figure out a series of steps for such a unique piece of music. Maybe even a dance for two..

No, he couldn't think like that. He had a job to do. He couldn't get distracted. No matter how appealing the thought was. Seeing Isa relax and smile while moving through a dance more loose and informal. Something Isa could actually enjoy doing, instead of forcing himself to go through stiff motions over and over again.

But he wouldn't let himself get too lost in those thoughts. He simply glanced at the prince every few moments before watching the musician perform.

While he didn't remain as visibly excited as his servant, the prince found himself equally as captivated by the music. Perhaps more so. The rhythm was unusual, as was the instrument itself, and he quickly found himself lost in a subtle sort of daze. 

Of course, perhaps he owed that to the little bit he had relaxed since their arrival at the estate, or at the reassurance that Terra's constant and steady presence provided him. Either way, he wasn't going to think much on it at the moment . . . nor on anything in particular at all. 

For some reason, he was drawn completely in by the way the minstrel's fingers danced along the keys of his instrument. Perhaps it was because he'd never had the opportunity to learn such a thing, himself. . . it had been considered frivolous within his kingdom, and was only indulged in even to  _ listen  _ at parties. 

He watched until the song ended and the minstrel set the instrument aside, then shook himself out of his daze for long enough to reach into the pouch on his belt and toss a coin into the hat the man had left on the ground. 

"Many thanks, many thanks. I'm staying all week," the blonde figure, dressed in rather simple clothing that suggested he was more of a traveler than a consistent employee of the estate, gave a sweeping bow and gathered up said hat, which he stuffed awkwardly over his mess of a haircut while flashing a grin. Shortly thereafter, he winked at a few giggling maidens standing closeby, and the ensuing conversation had the prince now very ready to leave. 

"That's not the sort of instrument I've seen at parties before," the prince murmured, partly to himself, as he started to walk once more. "I wonder where on earth that man hails from."

Unable to help it, Terra had clapped along with the small crowd at the completion of the song. It had been beautiful. Such obvious skill. Such individuality. The boldness necessary to come to such a different place with such a different type of music. It was praise-worthy. Clearly, the prince thought so as well, evidenced by the bit of money given.

He quickly moved along with the prince. He preferred not to know what windows that minstrel would sneak into later. Hopefully, none would mistake their window for someone else's. He would rather not be woken by some interested maiden at midnight. So he was more than ready to leave. Isa leading the way was perfectly okay with him.

"Someplace very far, I would guess," he answered quietly, "I would say somewhere farther east. Something about him seemed familiar, as though I read about it. Stringed instruments like we've never seen are out there. So it's likely where he came from before coming here."

A bit shyly, he risked a smile at Isa.

"Would you mind if we went closer to the waterfront? I've honestly missed such things. It doesn't have to be immediate, but I would appreciate it," he said with a gentle, quiet voice. He wouldn't ask for anything more.

That's right -- for a guard, Terra was well-learned, likely due in most part to his father. Isa couldn't help sparing him a glance, for a moment debating continuing to speak. Excited questions had risen on his tongue, but very quickly died. 

It wasn't the sort of thing that was important, nor that Isa should concern himself with. He was lucky enough to have  _ seen  _ the instrument being played, and that would be enough. 

Fortunately, it was easy to distract himself with the smile that was turned in his direction. It was one that he couldn't help returning -- perhaps in part to the atmosphere, or because Terra trusted him enough to make such a request. 

"Yes, of course," he agreed immediately. "We're here for a bit of time, there's plenty to spare. And I'd quite like to see the water for myself." 

They turned down a path that led closer to the distantly glistening water -- almost crystalline on the horizon -- then, and Isa was surprised as the ground grew softer beneath his feet. Cobblestone had turned to packed, damp earth and clay, and the prince wasn't honestly certain if he'd ever been to such a place before. 

"It's like the ocean . . . " he observed quietly, marveling at the size of the body of water in front of him. He'd expected a good deal smaller.

Terra had grown up with access to a pond. It had been a small area of still water that the animals usually drag from. There weren't even fish in it. No rivers had flown in or out of it. It existed from rainwater alone, but it had been enough for him to love being by the water. Even a small pond had a gentle, calming sense to it.

This place was no different. Wind blew across the water and into his face. The fresh smell sent a wave of relaxation and serenity through him that caused his eyes to close and his shoulders to droop. Oh, how he'd missed this. He hadn't even realized how badly he'd needed to get out of that castle until he was here, soaking in sunlight and fresh air. This was just so... freeing in a way. He was able to be calm and at ease while enjoying such a beautiful place. It was nearly perfect.

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" he said to Isa with a smile, "though, the ocean is a lot larger. This is quite a lake. You can barely see the other side from here."

An idea formed in his head the longer he looked at the water. It quickly excited him, and he began to execute it before fully thinking it through. He dropped down to start unlacing his boots enough to pull them off. It had been so long since he'd actually gone  _ swimming _ . He couldn't pass such an opportunity up! Not with such a huge, beautiful lake right there all but calling his name.

While Isa hadn't spent much of his life around any sort of water, he had to admit this was nice, if spectacularly different from anything that he was used to. The air coming off the water felt  _ different  _ than anything else had before, as if encouraging him to take time to  _ breathe  _ . . . 

Yes, it was pleasant, even if he  _ was  _ understandably wary around the water. It wasn't as if Terra was going to push him in. 

Isa didn't realize he'd shut his eyes, face turned towards the sun and lips slightly parted, until he heard Terra speak. "Yes, if you asked me I'd tell you I thought it went on forever," he murmured in response, then glanced to the other at his side. 

When he did so, his eyes widened in alarm. "Why the devil are you undressing?" he asked warily, glancing around them for any sign of observers.

Terra was halfway through unbuttoning his shirt when the prince's question registered in his mind. For a moment, he had been too excited to remember the situation that they were in. Could one really blame him? It had been far too long since he'd gotten to swim, even before he'd been claimed by the prince. Now that he had the chance, the desire to enjoy the water had overwhelmed in.

However that didn't change the situation at hand. He was suddenly undressing in a public area while he was supposed to be keeping a lookout for the prince.

He looked up at the other a bit sheepishly. "I was... hoping to swim?" he said, sounding as though he were uncertain and thus asking for permission. "It's been so long since I have. I got a bit ahead of myself. My apologies."

"No need to apologize . . . " Embarrassed for startling, Isa shifted position and fought back a rising heat on his face. "We've plenty of time, and we're on vacation. You may do as you wish." 

Still, something about watching Terra prepared to shed to his clothing as if it were nothing was rather . . . startling, and not for the reasons of propriety that Isa told himself it was. Guilt, perhaps? 

Something else? 

". . . I don't mind if you want to wade a bit."

It was hard not to immediately begin smiling again at the granted permission. Wading. Yes, that was probably better. Terra shouldn't go off and lap the late. That would leave Isa unattended and vulnerable. He wouldn't risk that. What kind of guard would he be if he did that?

Since he was only wading, he didn't need to take off near as much. He carefully finished putting off his overshirt to reveal the loose, plain undershirt beneath. Then he stood and carefully rolled up the pant legs as high as they could go, which ended up about one-third up his thigh. That should give him plenty of leeway to walk around in the water without getting the fancier clothing wet.

He took the first few steps into the cool water. A relaxed smile grew on his face. Oh, he had missed this. He savored the feeling of cool, moving water across his feet before taking a few steps in deeper. Today was perfect for this.

Glancing back, he gestured for the prince to come to him. "Don't you want to as well? It's really nice. Plus, as you said, we're on vacation. We should enjoy it together," he said with a bright smile.

Part of the prince was extremely relieved that Terra hadn't stripped anymore. He wasn't certain he could handle any more of the feeling rising within him that he'd now chosen to identify as guilt. 

Yet, for some reason, looking at the servant while happy and smiling in the shining water . . . wasn't much better, for some reason. He was having quite a hard time looking away. 

"Oh, I . . . " he trailed off at the offer, uncertain how to decline without revealing his secret. He was, as of yet, unable to swallow his pride enough to confess to his servant that he couldn't swim. Besides, if such a thing were admitted, it was a weakness that could easily be spread, and not one that Isa wanted to at all. 

Well . . . he didn't have to  _ swim  _ to wade in a bit, did he? Certainly not. He could just take a few steps in and be perfectly alright. 

" . . . Why not," he said with a sigh, then bent to pull off his own boots and fold the cuffs of his own trousers as high as possible. The very bare step forward was  _ quite  _ the experience, and he couldn't help letting out a startled laugh as the earth rose between his toes. ". . . I don't think I've been barefoot outdoors since I was a child," he mused to himself.

Part of Terra hadn't expected the prince to actually do it.

After all, this was the  _ prince _ . A prince that rarely had time for anything so simple and pleasurable, much less the desire to go out and do it. So it was surprising that Isa had agreed to join him. Then again, this  _ was  _ a vacation, wasn't it? Enjoying simple pleasures that one rarely got to experience before ought to be celebrated a bit.

But there was... something mesmerizing about that brief, happy laugh. Was the prince already enjoying himself? He certainly hoped so, but it was no less surprising. It was so... magical. Almost like a warm and full bell chime. He.... he really liked it when Isa laughed. Likely due to the fact that it was a rare occurrence, but he liked it.

"It's cooler without your overshirt," he said nonchalantly, "plus, you'd hate to get your sleeves wet while we're doing things here."

He smiled innocently at the other.

The smile may have been innocent, but for half a moment Isa was uncertain the request itself was. Had Terra been anyone else alive, Isa would have doubted very much his intentions. 

After all, he'd dressed casually . . . he hadn't been prepared for this at all and, admittedly, was clad  _ only  _ in what would typically be an undershirt. 

But . . . well, he couldn't afford to get it wet. Not unless he was to spare time changing later, which very much seemed like a waste of both time and effort. Well, that left him with only a single option. 

"I suppose you're right," he muttered, then shrugged his way entirely out of his shirt before casting it aside with Terra's where it wouldn't be ruined. Now entirely bare-chested, he bent to roll his pant legs in the same manner that Terra had, trusting his servant to protect him in such a vulnerable position.

While the other was finishing getting ready for being in the water, Terra had glanced away. It was only polite, after all, even if he was going to see the end result. It was better to give at least the impression of privacy while one disrobed. Just like how Isa had looked away when he'd gotten situated. He was just returning the favor.

However, this meant he was caught entirely off guard when he looked back at the other.

Terra had been under the incorrect impression that Isa was wearing several layers. Like he often did when they were in pubic. That was not the case right now. Made obvious by the now entirely bare chest. The prince, completely shirtless, playing in the water with him. His heart nearly stopped, though he wasn't sure exactly why.

He also didn't know why his eyes just kept  _ wandering _ . He'd never seen the prince bare before. Maybe a shoulder or collarbone, but he had quickly looked away in those moments. But now he  _ couldn't  _ look away. Isa looked like some old, white, marble statue. Perfectly sculpted from his jaw to his hips... and beyond.

At that though, he quickly averted his eyes. That was a less than appropriate line of thought to have about the prince. Especially since they slept in the same bed.

Oh, Hearts, they slept in the same bed.

He shook his head slightly to clear the thoughts.

"W-wouldn't want to have to change again," he said with a small, nervous stutter, "besides, now you can reach into the water without worrying about your sleeves getting wet. It's very helpful if you want to catch fish."

Completely unaware of Terra's struggle, Isa remained focused on relaxing as much as possible. He was shirtless. . . barefoot . . . and in the  _ water _ . It was an exposed and extremely vulnerable position, the likes of which he hadn't allowed himself to be in for quite some time. 

Truthfully, he couldn't have said exactly why he'd agreed. 

But he had, and now he was stepping slowly into the water while feeing the wet earth of the shore creep up between his toes. It was a foreign feeling, and not entirely pleasant -- yet there was something interesting about its novelty. 

"Fish?" he found himself asking, glancing upwards with his hands on his hips. "We haven't a net. Or a line. How would one go about catching fish?"

As if to immediately answer the prince's question, Terra snapped his arms into the water and pulled out a flailing fish. It was an old technique that his father had taught him. It required waiting for the right moment then taking your chance to preform a quick movement. Catching a fish barehanded was not a simple task. He was just glad he got it the first try.

"Like this!" he said with a proud smile. He walked over towards Isa, holding the still wigging fish in his hands. "It's not easy to do, but the fish always end up looking so surprised. I suppose I would too if I suddenly got grabbed. But it's funny, isn't it?"

He held the fish a bit towards Isa's face to look at it closely. Yes, focus on the fish. Not on the expanse of chiseled skin that was so impossibly close.

Focus! Hearts, he slept in the same bed as this man! Why was it so difficult to look away like he normally would? Was it because of the casualty of the situation? Was it because of the excitement of this place? There had to be a reason! But he had no idea what it could be. He'd have to figure it out later. He still had a job to do, even if he was taking a detour to catch fish.

Of all the answers that the prince had perhaps been expecting, Terra suddenly lunging into the water and producing a live animal had  _ not  _ been one of them. Admittedly, he'd jerked backwards a bit in surprise, staring wide-eyed at the flailing creature in the other's hands. It was somehow both horrifying and captivating. 

"How the devil did you do that?" he asked, flabbergasted, though he leaned forward to examine the fish when it was offered. It truly  _ did  _ look surprised. . . probably more so than even Isa had been. Something about the desperate movements of its fins, along with the sun glinting off shimmering scales, was captivating in a way that Isa couldn't completely comprehend. 

It was. . . pretty, almost. In fact, this was likely the closest he'd ever been to a living fish. 

Unable to help himself, he reached out to lightly run his fingers along the animal's side, still blind and ignorant to Terra's struggle, as well as the water droplets the thrashing creature had sent running down his chest.

Luckily, the prince's shocked expression did help with the internal conflict. It was a good distraction, mostly due to it being a bit funny. Evidence suggested that the prince had never seen someone do that before. Which made sense. It wasn't exactly an easy thing to do. Thus, few people knew how to do it.

Seeing that shocked, almost wonder filled, expression, however, did something very strange to his heart. It was suddenly pounding in his chest in a way it hadn't before. What did that  _ mean _ ?

Terra would ignore it for now.

"I just reached in and grabbed it," he explained simply. He couldn't exactly give a better explanation. His mind was.. elsewhere. Could anyone blame him, though? There was a living, breathing, old marble statue before him. Sculpted and and bare and-- Oh, he needed to  _ stop  _ while he still could.

The  _ answer  _ that Terra had given was somehow as equally unexpected as the fish, yet also perfectly in character. Unable to help himself, the prince laughed quietly, expression momentarily forming into a soft smile as he continued watching the fish in fascination. 

"You  _ grabbed  _ it," he echoed. "Is that the official technique? Clearly, we've been foolish for insisting upon the use of tools for so very long . . . " 

Though amused and lighthearted, and certainly marveling at the sight of the living animal, something began to catch the prince's attention that was causing his smile to fade. The fish was gasping. . . gills flapping uselessly and mouth hanging open as it tried in vain to inhale water that simply wasn't there. 

It was suffocating . . . it was familiar, and Isa couldn't restrain his free hand from rising to his throat. 

"Alright, that's enough for the thing --" he tried to say without emphasis, though likely betraying his concern for the fish. How very weak and humiliating. "We've plenty of dinner, here, already -- let the poor thing breathe."

Somehow, Terra could tell that the request was a bit more.. weighted. He hadn't expected that reaction, but he was more than willing to comply. The fish was quickly returned to the water and released. Luckily, it swam away without any trouble. He'd gotten so distracted that he'd almost let the fish suffocate in his hands... He would have to try not to get distracting. Even if.. there was something  _ very  _ distracting.

"It's a more... hands on way to fish," he said, hoping the joke would help remedy the mistake he'd just made, "handy when you don't have the tools necessary. That's what I was taught at least."

He took a deep breath before wading a bit deeper in the water, relishing in the feeling of water and wet dirt. Maybe it was a strange thing to long for, but he couldn't help it.

"You don't have to worry about that here," he said, perhaps being a bit discreetly serious and reassuring, "I promise. I'm here to help you. Nothing will stop me from that." He looked back at the other with a softer smile.

There was no resentment at all held towards Terra -- in fact, what the prince felt more than anything was embarrassment over his reaction, but it quickly faded. The joke earned a quiet snort, something that might have been a laugh, and he'd opened his mouth to retort when the other continued speaking. 

There it was, again . . . Terra, trying to bear the weight of the world in so precarious and limited a position. A position that Isa had placed him in, and a duty that he'd thrust upon him. It was clear that the servant intended to do whatever he had to in order to keep him safe. . . 

Isa wasn't sure how he felt about that. Relieved, to a certain extent, but for the most part not very good at all. 

" . . . I know," he answered simply, unwilling to discuss the matter further. He wasn't comfortable . . . not by any stretch of the imagination . . . but that was through no fault at all of Terra's. 

"Tell me. . . what other secrets do you know of the waters?" A thinly veiled change of subject, perhaps, but warranted, and Isa strode carefully deeper into the water. The feeling of earth beneath his feet was unfamiliar . . . and not entirely pleasant.

Luckily for Isa (and his desire to change the subject), Terra knew many secrets about the waters and the creatures within. The prompt had started a lengthy spiel about the plant and animal life likely living in such a lake. It was a large body of water, after all. All sorts of living things were within it. Likely many they would never be able to see. But a few did come and swim near their feet.

Occasionally, he could catch a fish with his hands but simply hold it under the water as he described things about it. General things like fins and gills and mythos tied to such things. Recounting the words from the many books he'd read in his father's library. Some that he created himself while fishing in various places. Story after story fell naturally from his lips about his various fishing mishaps and childhood misadventures.


	21. Chapter 21

Unfortunately, such moments do not last forever.

"Then she pushed me in! Luckily, the water wasn't very deep, but I was soaked from head to toe. Not to mention all the mud on me!" he said with a laugh, recounting a tale from his sister and his youth. A playful jest gone a bit wrong and the just revenge that had followed.

It was then that a servant approached, bowing before speaking.

"Your Majesty, I am sorry to disturb you, but dinner is being served within the hour. It would be my master's honor to host you as an honored guest at the meal," she said formally while staying in her bow to avoid looking at either of the two men.

Every word of Terra's, Isa hung upon like one of those same fishes on a line. Never before had he thought of wildlife as anything special, or worthy of this much attention. Never before had he considered the simple beauty, the unfamiliar and almost alien world that lies just beneath the surface of the waters. 

It was as if being in a different world entirely. . . introduced through Terra's words and the presented fish, in addition to every enthusiastically told and captivating story. Isa listened with slightly wide eyes, nodding along and memorizing every detail, even smiling faintly at the stories. What a wonderful life Terra appeared to have had. . . 

It was difficult not to feel envious, even as he was captivated. 

When the servant approached, the change in his demeanor was obvious. He was upright and in perfect posture in moments, giving a quick and short nod of acknowledgement. "Yes, thank you," he said as he dismissed the woman from her position. 

It had been a lovely moment . . . but, no, it couldn't last. 

"We should . . . probably clean up a bit," he said before turning and making his way from the water. Hopefully his clothes hadn't been too disturbed by the sand.

For a moment, they had been in a bubble. Their own little world on the edge of the lake. Enjoying each other's company. Terra had wanted more of it. Reminiscing and looking at animals were two things he loved doing, but it all had to be put to a stop. The bubble had burst. Now they had to return to the real world. One in which they had to act as servant and master instead of friends.

He wanted to be friends.

It had been so easy to forget, for a moment, that Isa was the prince. For just a moment, they had been equals. One talking and explaining, the other curiously listening. Why did that have to end? Why didn't he  _ want  _ it to end? He was getting too comfortable, wasn't he? This was the prince. No matter how kind and fair, the prince and he would never be equals.

So he went silent when the other servant came. Silent and still. Simply waiting for the next order, like he ought. No matter how much something in his chest begged for this to continue. The companionship. He longed for it more and more with each taste he got.

Yet something told him it was more than that too. It was more than just companionship in general he wanted. He wanted to... learn more about Isa. To listen to Isa ramble about his interests or silly stories. Perhaps there wasn't much in the way of silly stories, but he still wanted to know the ones that existed. He wanted to know as much as he could about Isa.

Why was that?

"Yes, your Majesty," he said as the other servant began to walk away. He followed the other to the shore. Sandy clothes had never bothered him too much, but it was still preferred to not be covered in the stuff. Luckily, the sand didn't seem wet on the clothing, so it was a little easier to brush off.

It had been so easy, for a moment, to forget that Terra was his slave. For just a moment, they had been equals. One enthusiastically sharing information, the other listening with his entire heart. Why did that have to end? Why didn't he  _ want  _ it to end? Isa had grown too comfortable, hadn't he? 

This person was his servant. Indentured to him and forced into his company. No matter how kind and fair Isa attempted to be, that wouldn't change Terra's unfortunate position. They would never be equals. 

Curiosity and lighthearted demeanor fading as he was pulled back into the more familiar world of aristocracy, Isa fell silent as well. Held stiff and proper, regal and grand, like he ought. No matter how much something in his chest begged for this to continue. Companionship . . . easy conversation . . . he longed for it more with each unfamiliar taste he got. 

But Terra was not merely his companion, and he could not force him to be -- especially in front of others. 

So he fell silent, brushed the sand from his clothing, and dressed once more. Shirt on once more, boots slipped into and laced, he was once again the prince. And the prince had a job to do. 

Back from the little bubble they walked, towards the estate and away from the tantalizing glimpse of nature. Hopefully, dinner would pass smoothly, and with limited expelling of stomach contents.

Luckily, it seemed that they would be given some form of mercy this night. There was no poison, or suspicious dinner guests. It almost seemed pleasant. As though the people here were simply polite and relaxed instead of the posturing they encountered at the party. There was several quite formal greetings and expressions of gratitude at the prince's attendance, but that wasn't abnormal.

Of course, that's how it seemed to Terra. Aside for checking for possible trouble, he paid little attention. There were far more pressing things on his mind. His trip down memory lane had done little to relieve his homesickness. He could no longer deny that that was what he was feeling. Such a beautiful, natural place reminded him far too much of home. He longed to simply get lost in the woods here and never return. Except for to wander home to the life he once knew.

Though, he wasn't foolish enough to believe it would be the same as when he'd left it.

But there were other things on his mind. Ones that caused less sorrow and more... confusion. He had quickly gotten used to, and even enjoyed, the prince's company. So much so that childhood stories and lighthearted jokes were becoming more natural to say in front of the other. Especially when he got some sort of laugh or small smile in return. He wasn't sure why he had gotten so comfortable, but he didn't  _ dis _ like it.

Perhaps he was simply missing other company, so he was learning to enjoy what he had. No, that didn't seem quite right. He wanted to spend time with the prince. To learn more about the prince. There was a personality hidden close in Isa's chest, he couldn't help but want to find it. There were moments where he could see it, through cracks as he told his stories. But there had to be a way to bring it out more fully. Perhaps the other simply needed to become more comfortable himself first.

Then there was the odd feeling that had come from the prince not wearing a shirt. No, he wasn't going to dwell on that thought.

Perhaps it wasn't the same almost carefree feeling that the prince had been overcome with when there was nothing more to worry about than mud between his toes and the feeling of fish scales, but the evening progressed rather pleasantly indeed. Of course, compared to their last venture away from the castle, that was a rather low bar. 

Nevertheless, the night was calm and, at least by Isa's standards, extraordinarily relaxed. Even those few formal greetings he received were merely polite, genuine, not over the top or backhanded as were many of the sort he'd grown accustomed to at home. 

A pleasant dinner, with somewhat pleasant company. None of whom attempted to abuse his servant, or tried to poison him. Low standards, yes, but they were met and beyond, and Isa was surprised to -- for once -- not have an overwhelming migraine by the time they retired back to their guest chambers. 

He was tired, of course, by the time that door shut behind them, but not overwhelmingly so. It was a pleasant sort of exhaustion, warm and easy to relax into like a sort of blanket. 

Shoulders rolled as the door shut behind them, leaving the pair once more in solitude, and a weight lifted from the prince's shoulders that resulted in a subtle but certain change in demeanor. He was relaxed, now, in the company of none but his servant and guard. 

Remarkable, really, how quickly that comfort had been earned.

Maybe it was a good thing Terra had found other things to think about after a while. Dwelling on thoughts of the prince was only making him... embarrassed? He wasn't sure that was the right word, but it certainly felt that way with how his face had began to warm up. So it was good to distract himself with something else.

Anything else.

Luckily, he'd been able to look out the window from his place during dinner. So, instead of the more confusing thoughts, he'd simply imagined going through the woods, enjoying fresh air and the ambiance of nature. It was difficult not to feel homesick with thoughts like that. He missed his home. The fields and forests. The small pond and the river among the trees. Endless sunlight and grass you could simply lay in. Most importantly, he missed the bright looks on his family's faces. He wondered how much Ventus had drawn since they'd last seen each other.

Okay, maybe that hadn't been the best choice of thought either. A more melancholy feeling had settled over him. He wondered if he could somehow ask for a moment alone in the forest. Surely things were safe enough here that that would be alright, right?

No, he had a job to do. He wouldn't abandon it because of a selfish desire. That was his duty as a soldier. Perhaps he wasn't technically a soldier anymore, but that didn't matter to him. He'd been charged to protect the prince at all hours. He was determined to do just that. No matter how badly he wished he could explore the grounds, it wasn't near as important as guarding the prince.

Soon they were back in their room, so that made his job of guarding much easier. Despite the relative safety of this place, he still quickly checked the room. One could never know who was hiding under the bed or in the wardrobe. It seemed that no such unpleasantries were going to happen here, which he had to admit that he was grateful for. Perhaps it was a low standard compared to their last encounter. But it was still better. So he would be grateful.

"Maybe it's just because of all the fun we had at our last party, but I think I really like this place. It's relaxing. Don't you think, Isa?" he asked a bit jokingly with a chuckle.

He pulled out his knife and carefully put it away before starting to pull off the outermost layers of clothing. The nature of this place had actually allowed him to wear more than one layer, which, perhaps, was another low bar. But he was glad for the simple comfort of being left in his loose fitting undershirt and pants.

The notion of "relaxing" was something far beyond the Prince's reach -- no matter the luxury in which he'd grown up. Perhaps one might have thought that silver spoons granted ones an easy and restful existence, but that had never been the case for him. 

Even now, half on guard and aware of his duty, Isa couldn't say that he was completely relaxed . . . but he was certainly closer than he'd been in an extremely long time. Perhaps ever before in his life. 

"Yes, it's rather pleasant . . ." he agreed with a hum while shedding his own shirt. It was a commentary on the difference in their positions that the newfound freedom granted Terra more layers of clothing than typical, while Isa by contrast was granted less. 

Freedom was such a relative term, was it not? 

Once down to his breeches, Isa moved towards the washbin left out for them and soaked a rag before beginning to spot clean lingering bits of sand and mud from his body. There weren't many, but just enough to make him uncomfortable, and he couldn't bear the thought of getting in to bed and sullying the sheets. 

Still bare-chested and slightly damp once he finished, he made his way to the bed and sat down while rubbing his eyes. The air here felt so very nice. . . it seemed a pity to dress, even in pajamas. It was a good deal warmer here than home, and the thought of sleeping in such a relaxed state was tempting for several reasons. . . 

. . . But, was such a thing inappropriate? Would it make Terra uncomfortable? Perhaps he should ask . . . though that would likely be even more odd. . . 

"I might rest early," was all he said aloud. "I wish to rise early and watch the sun rise over the lake."

Freedom was a relative term. It simply always had been. And while neither of them could  _ completely  _ be loose of such things, the chains were far looser when it was just the two of them. No need to worry about putting on a show or acting formal and polite. They could simply be themselves for the short window of time that no one was watching. It was a nice feeling.

One Terra couldn't help but find himself particularly enjoying.

It wasn't just the ability to do as he pleased on a personal level. Yes, getting to dress as he liked or getting to do whatever he pleased in the space was nice, but there was more than that. He got to see something truly special. Something perhaps no one else had ever gotten to see, or ever will. That was the prince being so relaxed and comfortable. It should have been impossible, all things considered, but he was honored to see it. Honored and.... something else that he couldn't quite place. It likely wasn't important.

Except for when the prince disrobed in the corner of his vision and that  _ something else _ suddenly got much louder. He quickly glanced away, more out of respect to the other's privacy than anything else. Though, he couldn't deny that something in his mind kept telling him to  _ look _ . Just as he had caught himself staring when they had been in the water. How indecent... but he could hardly help it.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," he said while going over to a space to change into nightclothes himself, "I bet the sunrise is beautiful here. We wouldn't want to miss it. Especially after the sunset today. The sky will be clear tomorrow, which makes it the perfect time to view such a thing."

Once changed, he walked over to the bed. And he couldn't help but notice that the prince was...  _ not  _ wearing nightclothes. Perhaps some distant part of his mind was worried about what that could mean. But the majority of his mind was wildly distracted. Unable to help a quick flick of his eyes across the prince's back. Had the prince always appeared that... firm and strong?

No, no, he was not going to think about it, and he  _ certainly  _ wasn't going to  _ ogle the prince _ . He sat on his side of the bed, looking away from the prince for two reasons. Privacy and... to hide whatever heat kept rising to his face.

"Are you alright like that, Isa?" he asked, subtly asking about the other's dress. He really didn't have the right to tell the prince what he could wear to bed, but Isa had like his opinion influence things before.

Ah, such a thing  _ was  _ odd, then . . . Isa had likely been foolish to suspect otherwise. After what Terra had expected to happen to happen to him when Isa first took him as his servant, Isa couldn't blame him. 

Then again . . . perhaps the prince was overthinking things. There was no need to make Terra uncomfortable -- he'd be under the sheets, soon, anyway, and they'd both be asleep. It wasn't as if he actually intended to touch the other man. Perhaps he was simply being respectful. 

Worries dismissed, Isa nodded and stood to pull back his side of the blanket before sliding beneath and laying back against the pillow. "Perfectly," he answered in monotone, refusing to let any of his dissonance show. "Only indulging in a bit of vacation, considering there's no maidservant to barge in upon me, and the air is rather warm." 

For half a moment, he debated suggesting Terra do the same, before recognizing that would likely be highly inappropriate. Terra spent enough of his time . . .  _ exposed _ , and Isa didn't want to cause damage to their tentative relationship by placing him in an uncomfortable situation.

There must have been something majorly wrong with Terra. He found himself completely out of control of his thoughts, and his face was only growing in warmth. Maybe he was getting sick? That seemed wildly unlikely, but that was the only logical explanation. It was certainly the only one he was going to fully acknowledge. Any other reason would be... inappropriate and impossible. So it couldn't be anything like that.

Besides, if the prince wanted to sleep like that, then he had every right to. He shouldn't make the prince uncomfortable while he was trying to be comfortable in bed. That would be counterproductive to a good night's sleep.

"It is pretty warm in here," he agreed, not stating why  _ he _ was warm per se, "it's good to enjoy such things when the opportunity presents itself. I wouldn't want to hinder that." Adding the last line probably wasn't the best, but it had just slipped out. It was true, after all, he didn't want to get in the way of Isa indulging in something relaxing. Goodness knows that Isa hardly seemed to relax.

Slowly, he laid down on his back. Even if he was... hesitant to look at the other, he wouldn't face entirely away.

"If we're going to wake up early tomorrow, it's best to be as comfortable as possible. That way, we'll fall asleep more quickly," he said while settling on his side of the bed.

It seemed that Terra was comfortable, then . . . or at least, comfortable enough. It wasn't as if Isa was going to actually  _ do  _ anything . .. which meant it was alright. Isa could stop overthinking his choice of sleepwear. 

"Yes, quite right . . . " he murmured, allowing his eyes to close as he settled down further into the blankets. The bed was comfortable, the sheets cool and soft. . . and there existed little fear in Isa's mind that he'd find himself targeted while in bed. 

Not with his . . . guard present. 

Thought and feeling were muddled and confused, and Isa ultimately decided it best not to worry about at all. Attention drifted away from Terra, and towards the smell of flowers making its way in from the window. A soothing smell which, along with the pleasant feeling in the air, managed to lull the prince to sleep. 

It was comfortable, here, and it was a comfortable slumber. Isa slept deeper than he had in months, buried in clean linens. It was only a matter of time, however, before the cool air that he'd found comfort in before grew instead to chill his skin, and the prince frowned in his sleep as he repressed a shiver. 

Ah, there. . . a source of warmth. Just a little ways over in the bed. 

Without thinking or so much as waking, Isa shifted to move closer to that warmth, wrapping an arm around it and holding it close while pressing himself as near to it as possible. Something warm. . . pleasant to the touch, and comforting to hold. . .

The sleeping prince had no idea he'd pressed himself tight to his poor, sleeping servant's back.

Everything about this place was comfortable. It was so easy to just relax and allow the peace lull him to a pleasant, gentle slumber. Terra welcomed it. Something about this place just made him feel secure enough to do so. Perhaps he should have still been vigilant despite that, but it was hard to stay focused when the world around him simply brought a peaceful joy that he hadn't felt in months.

So he allowed himself one peaceful night. As a guard, he knew how to sleep lightly so that he could wake and get ready in a moment's notice, even in the middle of the night. But that wouldn't be the case tonight. Tonight, he planned on sleeping heavily. He rarely got the chance to do so. He wouldn't pass the opportunity when it was right in front of him.

It seemed the peace was going to last throughout the night as well. He didn't remember the last time he'd had a pleasant dream. If he had dreamed at all lately, it had been something sorrowful. Either horrid memories of the fate of his father, or worries over the safety of his siblings. But tonight, he dreamt of family, yes, but in a far better way than he ever had. 

It had been more a memory than a dream. He and his siblings were all children. He had been reading to the other two, a newer skill that he had been quite proud of. Ventus had fallen asleep quickly. Aqua dozed after a few chapters. And Terra had quickly joined them upon realizing both his siblings were asleep on top of him, pinning him in place. It was a feeling of warmth and affection he hadn't felt for some time. The content feeling of human company. He longed for it.

But then he felt it. As though he was being held. Perhaps that only lulled him deeper into dreams. He didn't mind. If he was going to indulge himself... he may as well commit. Even if it only lasted the night.


	22. Chapter 22

It was warm. 

Not in any recent memory had Isa been quite this comfortable. Secure, content . . . cool air at his front and something warm and soft in front of him that he willingly tucked against. Had he ever slept in a bed this comfortable before . . . ? 

Sleepily, he nuzzled closer to the warmth in front of him, briefly holding onto it tighter. So soft. . . yet firm . . . so pleasant . . . 

What . . . 

What exactly  _ was  _ it . . . ? 

Slowly, Isa's mind began to stir from unconsciousness, and it was with a frown that he blinked his eyes open and leaned back in an effort to make out what the blur in front of him was. Confused, and slightly disoriented, he gently patted the body in his arms. . . 

The body. 

Terra. He was holding on to Terra. 

Horror running through every nerve and chasing away any lingering sleepiness, he pushed backwards while releasing the other as if he'd been burned. How . . . how  _ horrid _ . How  _ depraved _ . To hold his servant in his  _ sleep _ , where he wasn't able to give protest. . . 

Bile churning in his throat, Isa stumbled to his feet. He couldn't bear to remain in the other's presence. . . not now, after . . .  _ that _ . 

Without a single thought in his mind but to remove himself from the situation, Isa threw on the first set of robes that he could get his hands on, then fled quietly from the room. He could manage on his own for a little while, as Terra slept . . . just enough to get his thoughts in order and refrain from abusing the servant further. 

Just enough to clear his head. 

Mind a whirlwind, he started towards the beach.

It had been so long since Terra had been able to sleep properly. Everything was simply comfortable and right for once. He would have been content to sleep like this all night long, even if he had to eventually awaken. It was nice to just have something to savor. Even if it was just for a moment.

Of course, said moment lasted for far less time than he had expected. Surely, it wasn't time to wake up yet. Then where did that comfortable feeling of warmth and connection go? Why did it have to disappear so soon?

After a moment of stirring on the bed, he slowly opened his eyes. Something was missing.

Some _ one _ was missing.

If it weren't for the immediate feeling of panic that came from the prince no longer being in the bed, Terra might have thought about why he had noticed it. However, that wasn't as important. Whatever accidental touching had happened while they were asleep didn't matter. Who even cared so long as he wasn't kicked out of the bed? But that didn't matter. What mattered was finding Isa.

What kind of a guard lost the person they were supposed to be protecting?

Within seconds, he was out of the bed and changing clothes when he happened to glance out of the window. A flash of blue among the greens and browns of the estate. For a moment, he relaxed. Isa was simply taking a walk like he said he wanted to. Yes, he shouldn't have gone alone, but at least there was no real reason to worry.

At least, Terra would have maintained that way of thinking if he didn't see movement... following the prince from a short distance. He couldn't make out  _ who  _ it was, but it was obvious that they were following Isa.

Which was never good.

Only clad in trousers, not having time for anything else, he rushed out of the bedroom. Through corridors, past servants, slipping between the beginnings of morning routine. He had to get outside, and he had to do it  _ now _ .

Lest he be too late.

Perhaps it was foolish for Isa to have gone off on his own -- no, in fact, it most certainly was. Distantly, there was some part of the prince that recognized that, even as he walked briskly along the shore with a hand running through his hair. 

But he simply couldn't bear to face Terra at the moment -- after having taking advantage of his guard's vulnerability, he couldn't wake him to ask for accompaniment on a journey to clear his mind. Such a venture would be both an injustice and incredibly counterproductive. 

_ It'll be alright _ , he assured himself mentally while taking a deep breath through his nose. The cool air coming off the water was refreshing, and awakening him more by the moment.  _ I'll walk a few minutes, and then return. Just enough to get myself in order and ensure that doesn't happen again.  _

So lost was the prince in mentally berating himself that he didn't notice the figure approaching behind him at a casual pace. So casual, in fact, and light, that it escaped detection altogether, dismissed as an environmental background to Isa's weary walk. 

For there was one thought that wouldn't leave him . . . one that he couldn't resolve, and that only fed the pit of self-hatred in his belly. 

_ I enjoyed it. _

Holding Terra had felt  _ good _ , somehow, and  _ right _ , for reasons that Isa couldn't begin to comprehend. He didn't want to comprehend. 

Shaking his head, the prince wandered along the shore and towards a pier looking out over the water. The water. . . into which he'd ventured yesterday, entirely at his servant's encouragement, though he'd not likely done such a thing otherwise. . . 

What did it all  _ mean _ ? 

_ Am I becoming like the others . . . ? _ He thought to himself, boots falling heavily on aged wood as he set off down the overlook while staring into the water. Cursed blood and cursed intrigue. . . 

Cursed Terra, cursed warmth. 

Foolish with distraction, the prince had wandered into a spider web, not so much as noticing the arachnid creeping up behind him. Footsteps, soft and without a single care, stilled at the edge of the doc. 

"Heeeeey there, your highness," a lazy voice greeted cheerfully, causing the prince to jerk slightly and whirl around, face to face with a figure that was familiar in a manner he couldn't quite place. Loose clothing, eccentrically styled blonde hair . . . 

". . . You're the musician," he stated, rising to full height while narrowing his eyes in a cold stare. "I saw you playing. What need have you to address me?" 

"What, can't a guy relax by the lake?" manic eyes belied a cheery smile and lilting tone as the musician tucked his hands into his pockets. "Looks like we had the same idea, huh?" 

The blonde took a step forward, onto the dock. 

There was nowhere for Isa to step back.

One night's indulgence. Terra could not even have one night's indulgence. The one time he allowed himself to relax and believe them to be safe was the time something came to destroy whatever tentative peace existed. Of course that would happen. He could not even have one night of rest without waking to disaster.

No, that wasn't important right now. Right now, he had to find and protect the prince.

How selfish of him to think otherwise. It was his honor and duty to guard the prince from any that would try to harm him. Nothing would change that. No amount of personal feelings or desires would get in the way of that. He refused to let them.

So he ran, perhaps with an edge of reckless abandon, to the outer gardens. Isa had said he wanted to see the sunrise on the lake. That was likely where he had gone. As well as whoever had been following him. He needed to hurry. So much could happen in just a few seconds. That was how soldiers were trained. Without a few seconds, in a few quick movements, the entire situation or fight could change. It was up to him to make if be for his benefit.

But he had to be  _ there  _ first.

It didn't take long to see the dock. Nor to see that the prince was standing on it. Trapped. There was nowhere for the prince to go other than the water lest he risk trying to get past a possibly armed assassin. Did the prince even know how to swim? Would that even matter in the heavier clothing the prince usually wore?

No matter. He was here. And he would set things right as he surged forward to help.

Whatever anxiety had already managed to consume Terra had yet to affect Isa to the same extent. Instead, it lingered on the edges of his consciousness, distant alarm bells that had yet to come fully to life, lulled into silence by the musician's lazy grin and the prince's own arrogance and disdain. 

"You can relax on your own account, there's no reason to interfere with my own," was his bitter comeback, to which the blonde raised his hands in the air and let out a laugh. Suddenly bristling, either with anger or apprehension Isa wasn't sure, he narrowed his eyes to a glare. 

"Whoa, calm down, your  _ highness _ ," the musician drawled, and despite his cheery and lazy expression there was a look in his eyes that was near manic. A sharp glint, hidden behind fae-like amusement, that caused something cold to settle in Isa's stomach even as his blood ran hot with anger. 

"I will  _ not  _ \-- " he began, then faltered when he saw that the musician had continued to move forward. One of Isa's boots slid backwards, near imperceptibly, only to make contact with the edge of the dock. 

The cold feeling grew, and Isa resisted the urge to glance behind him, suddenly realizing how foolish a choice his walk had been. 

" . . . You are not welcome here, minstrel. Carry on your way," he ordered, only to be met with a laugh. 

"Yeah . . . I reeeeeally don't think so, man," another laugh, and the blonde scratched the back of his head while rocking onto the balls of his feet. "See, I really  _ really  _ need something from you. I hate to ask, buuuut . . . never got the chance yesterday. You were always with a crowd, or with your pretty toy, and I never got you alone to ask. C'mooooon, give me a break, ok?" 

He pouted, almost, with an expression that caused Isa to wish to backhand him, and the prince bristled once more before letting out a heavy breath through his nose. 

". . . And what, pray tell, is it that you  _ need  _ from me so very badly?" he demanded, and the blonde's pout morphed into a happy grin that wasn't quite reflected in that manic, malicious sheen. 

"You've made me real happy, your highness," he laughed, rocking lazily back on his heels. "See I just really, really  _ really  _ . . . " 

Without warning, the blonde then darted several steps forward, face pressed close to the prince's as his eyes stared wide and unblinking like that of a fish. Before Isa had the chance to react, having leaned backwards and caught off guard by the unusual assault, hands had found their way to his chest and given a surprisingly strong  _ shove  _ that caused the prince to lose balance and topple off the edge of the pier. 

Over his own stifled cry, arms flailing and failing to make contact with naught but empty air, Isa managed to hear another cheery laugh, along with the words 

"I just  _ really  _ need you to die for me, k?" 

Then his back hit the water, and the cold water of the lake broke around him before closing over his head.

Just a second too late.

Bare feet finally made contact with the edge of the dock just as the prince's feet left it. Cold dread grew in Terra's heart as water splashed into the air, signally that someone had fallen into it. He'd seen it. That.. person, he couldn't tell who, pushing Isa into the likely cold lake without a second thought.

It had been foolish to relax here, but that didn't matter. He had to make sure that the prince was safe.

He ran down the pier, all but shoving the assassin out of the way as he passed. He didn't rightly care if the attacker could get away. The first task was to make sure the latest attempt wasn't successful. Even if that meant losing the person that had attacked in the first place.

So he jumped into the water, diving with precision and not a moment's hesitation. Opening his eyes under the water stung, but that wasn't important. He could see Isa under him, sinking further and further. It was easier to swim down. The hardest part would be swimming up with both of them.

But he would do it. Failure was not an option. Not when it came to this.

Time seemed to slow as they both sank deeper into the water. It was becoming increasingly clear that the prince didn't know how to swim. No matter. Terra would swim enough for the both of them. He had to. But first he had to reach the other. Reaching out a hand, he grabbed Isa's arm, the closest part that he could reach. It only took a moment to pull the other closer.

Now it was time for the hard part. Swimming up with only one arm, as his other was securely around the prince. At least he had strong enough legs to manage this. Hopefully.

Determination spurred him forward, legs kicking with full force as he dragged both of them to the surface of the water. It seemed so impossibly far away. The earliness of the day made it impossible to tell out deep they were. But he kept going and going until they finally broke the surface. He took a greedy gulp of air before swimming to the edge of the pier and hauling Isa onto it. The assassin was long gone.

"Isa?" he called while climbing onto the dock and rolling Isa onto his back, "Isa, please, say something!"

Time was still. 

It seemed as if the passage of time itself was, for a few slow, pounding heartbeats, unable to pass the surface of the water. There was no time -- there was no space. No life. There, drifting suspended in the dark, inky blue/green of the lake, Isa had no room to think. No room to feel. 

No room to feel anything but shock, and cold. 

Everything had happened so quickly he hadn't thought to hold his breath, and every bit of air that had been stored within his lungs was punched free upon impact, leaving them empty for water to rush in as he quickly found himself drug beneath the surface. For a few moments, so long they may have been years, all that existed was shock, cold, and the distant, echoing sound of his own far too loud heartbeat. 

Then, panic. 

Angry and cursing his own foolishness, Isa thrashed, then struggled against the water invading his lungs as he flailed and grasped for the surface. Clawed hands grabbed fistfuls of water, succeeding only in tangling himself in his own heavy clothing, which drug him deeper by the moment. 

_ Damn it -- damn you.  _

Anger and shame dominated, undercut by the faintest but ice-cold thrum of fear. Time restarted all at once, moving far, far too quick, and there was scarcely time to properly panic before Isa found his vision fading. 

The light above grew darker, and struggles slowed as numbing cold seeped into Isa's bones. Shame and hopelessness were the last feelings that registered, muffled curses running through his mind towards the assassin -- his parents -- his own ignorance. 

The last bit of light, distant above him, was blocked out by a figure, and Isa blinked slowly before his eyes fell shut. Something coming from the light, hands outstretched to collect him . . . 

_ Lea? _ he thought, and distantly some part of him was happy. 

Then, he was gone.

No response. There was nothing worse than that in this moment. Terra needed something,  _ anything _ , yet he had  _ nothing _ . What to do? There were very few ways to undo  _ drowning _ , especially if it was far enough for Isa to be unresponsive.

No, he couldn't panic. He needed to focus. Some part of him knew...  _ something _ . A more... recent concept with no clear methodology yet. The idea was to push the water back out of the body. If the person breathed the water in, then there had to be some way to force them to breathe the water back out. The only issue was that it was uncertain how exactly to do that.

It was all he had to go on, and it was better than nothing.

The primary part was pushing the water out and making sure there was air to replace it. Terra knew that much. Quickly, he rolled Isa entirely onto his back. One hand on top of his other, he began to push on Isa's chest, just below his sternum. This was the right area, right? It was near the lungs. It was the best guess he had, at the moment. At least to start trying to push water out.

But what of putting air back in? He couldn't tell through his own panic if Isa was breathing or not. Maybe he had to force the air in after pushing the water out? That made sense in concept, but then there was the matter of application. How could he....?

An idea finally came to mind. He shifted positions quickly. There was only a chance this would work. But he had to try. He wouldn't stop trying no matter what. So he gently opened the prince's mouth and pressed his open mouth against Isa's in order to force air in the best he could. This was likely a futile and ludicrous idea, but it was all he had. Right now, he would act on instinct and hope he didn't have to think about it later.

Black. 

That was all that the prince knew, now. 

Cold, inky black . . . no thought, no sensation. It was emptiness, a palpable nothingness none who had encountered it would ever be able to describe. The only comparison . . . 

Was when the nothingness was broken. 

It happened slowly. The first thing he became aware of was pressure. On his chest, and on his lips. Had he been any longer in connection with his hands, he might have tried to bat it away . . . 

Then, all of a sudden, he was. The slightest bit of feeling, the twitching of a finger. Distant, as if he was controlling his own body via puppet strings from behind a wall. Strings. . . strings which pulled him ever closer to the form, sensation increasing by the minute. 

His lips. 

He knew the feeling of those lips. 

In a matter of seconds, the prince was pulled full force back into his own body and met with a rush of sensation all at once. The world  _ screamed _ , and he'd have sworn his head would split open. It would be a blessing to go back to the black. 

Isa's body spasmed, then twitched, and then he was coughing up water through a burning throat. Immediately, he forced himself onto his side, curled into himself slightly as the water was forcibly expelled, replaced by harsh and desperate gasps for air that were cut off quickly by coughing.

Panic had settled in with each passing second that Isa had remained still. Just those few brief moments in the water had made Isa colder to the touch. Maybe Terra was just imagining it. But he couldn't help it. He'd let his guard down for one second, and Isa had been put into peril. He should have been more vigilant. Not slept as deeply. Gone out with Isa the moment the other had woken.

Now all he could do was try something, anything, and hope. Hope that the other hadn't been underwater too long. Hope that the other's eyes would open. Hope that it would be alright.

When Isa began to move, Terra immediately gave the other space, sitting between Isa and the edge of the pier. Coughing up water was a good thing, right? It meant any water that he breathed in would get out, right? That's what he chose to think. It was especially reassuring when the other began to  _ breathe _ .

"Isa," he said, voice relieved yet still concerned beyond all measure, "are you alright? Can you breathe properly?"

He had no idea what to do, but he had to find a way to check  _ something _ . Maybe he could press his ear to the other's chest and see if he could hear water? He really wasn't sure if that would help much, but he was willing to try anything at this point.

Nothing on earth had been so painful and wonderful all at once. It was a feeling that Isa was growing used to, now, and that thought was near as frightening as the experience itself. Air, cold and harsh, forced into ragged and deprived lungs that had stilled their work in a manner they'd never been designed to . . . life, forced into a body rapidly that had already decided to give it up. 

It was the same as with the wire and the poison, and some part of Isa felt not frightened, not angry, but irked. 

Of course, most of him was delirious, and it was only distantly that he managed to thrash a bit and feel the wet ground of the dock beneath his hand. Though he tried to move, his body was quickly shaken with another round of painful coughing, and he collapsed back onto the ground while blinking water and lingering blackness from his vision. 

"Te --- " he began, then choked, reaching out the slightest git desperate for  _ something  _ to ground himself.

Well, it looked like the answers to his questions weren't coming. At least the coughing meant that Isa was still  _ breathing _ . One had to have air in their lungs in order to expel it back out so harshly. Of course, Terra could tell that nothing about this was pleasant. Which made sense, all things considered.

How could he have been so foolish? He had one charge, just one. Keeping the prince alive was going to be more difficult a task than he thought, but he wasn't as vigilant as he should have been. It almost cost them both. He needed to always be on guard. Whoever wanted Isa dead was very good at getting into what should be well secured places... as well as knowing where the prince was going to be at any given time. It was worrisome, but he should be adapting to protect the prince more fiercely. Not... sleeping as though there was not a care in the world.

He'd likely mentally berate himself more later. At the moment, Isa needed him. He wasn't sure how to help, but... it had almost sounded like Isa had tried to call for him. If Isa called, he would answer. Every time.

Carefully, hoping not to cause further pain or distress, Terra reached for and gently touched Isa's outstretched hand. He ought not do more. They were still outside, still where others might come and see. Isa didn't have the energy for acting right now. But... he could hardly help himself. He moved closer and used his other hand to move the wet hair out of Isa's face.

"I'm here, Isa," he said softly, hoping it was at least somewhat reassuring.

All that Isa knew, in those moments of darkness, was insecurity. 

He'd never done well with loss of control, and he'd never done well with vulnerability. Now, gasping for breath and deprived of sight, he was faced with both in abundance, and his breath only came shorter as his heart began to pound in panic. 

"Te --" he cried again, reflexively, then jerked as skin made contact with his own. The assassin, come back to finish what he'd started? Isa couldn't fight -- not like this -- but he hadn't any choice, and he stiffened while preparing to fight to his last breath. 

Then, the voice; soothing, like the warmth of a hearth. The touch, familiar and safe. 

Without thinking -- his brain hadn't yet returned with which to think, Isa grabbed for the arm that reached for his face. Clinging and panting, he blinked, trying to make out the other's face and failing. There was nothing to do, then, but hold tighter, dragging his limp and cold form closer to his guard's warm body. 

Somehow, distantly, he thought it would make him safe.

The moment Isa moved to cling even closer, Terra drew the other in. Seeing the other so desperate for something to cling to broke any resolve to remain subtle. He pulled the other into his arms, leaving enough space for the other to still move and cough however necessary, but still close. He wouldn't let Isa slip out of his fingers like that again.

"I'm here. Right here," he said gently, keeping a grip on Isa's hand, "it's okay. You're safe now. I've got you."

He really wasn't sure what he was saying or why at this point. Only that it was important. So important. Isa was having to deal with these close brushes with death far too often. He wished he could prevent it entirely, but it seemed someone was determined to kill the prince.

Well, then he would just have to be more vigilant. Always by the other's side. Not a moment's distraction or hesitation. He wouldn't let anything happen to the prince... to Isa. It was so important. He couldn't let that slip through his fingers. The fingers he found himself gently carding through the other's hair while trying to take long, deep breaths, hoping the other would match it.

Safe. 

It was the only word that managed to make its way completely to the prince's brain, though it resonated strongly.  _ Safe _ . That was his guard's voice, his guard's hands, holding him just as they had the last time he'd had his breath stolen . . . 

He was safe. 

Still holding tight to whatever part of the other man that he could reach, Isa continued to cough and gasp life back into himself. The world was becoming more clear by the moment, bringing with it the painful sensations of exhaustion, cold, and aching lungs. Limply, he rested his head upon Terra's shoulder, not stopping to think about the action and not having the energy to wonder why. 

When he could think further, after several moments of the same, he coughed and raised his head the slightest bit from its position enough to mutter, incredibly annoyed: "I'm . . . getting rather tired of asphyxiation," a cough. "Could the -- next assassin please -- get more creative?"

Out of all the things Isa could have chosen to say after a near death experience, Terra hadn't been expecting that. He let out a startled laugh, having not expected such humor at the moment. Hmm.. a sense of humor was something to add to the list of things he hadn't expected from the prince, but he was alright with that. It helped cut through the tension.

"I'll make sure to inform them of your preference next time," he said with an odd laugh that was both tired and attempting at true humor.

It was a statement both amusing and morbid, and Isa wasn't certain whether to laugh, cry, or descend into another fit of coughing.  _ Next time _ . . . there would certainly  _ be _ a next time, and they would have to start being a good deal more careful. 

They'd been cutting things far too close for comfort, and a chill settled into Isa's bones even as his muscles went lax in relief. 

"Obliged. . . " strength somewhat regained, though he was still panting, he sat up and looked around. "The . . . the musician . . . " he croaked. "Did he get away?"

Yes, next time. As much Terra loathed the idea, it was near impossible for there to  _ not  _ be a next time. Someone wanted the prince dead, and they had the resources to employ assassins to do so. No, this likely wouldn't end for a long time. Not until they found the source and took care of them.

Until then, he would be more vigilant. There was no way he was going to let it be this close again. Period. Even if it meant he never slept again, he was going to keep Isa safe. There was no other option.

"Yes, he must have run off when I dived in. I doubt we'd be able to find him before he's gone," he said before bowing his head slightly, "I'm sorry. I didn't take the time to apprehend him. Getting you out of the water was my priority."

Every detail of this dreadful situation had been insult on top of injury, and this was the final garnish. Yet again, the assassin had escaped -- attempt nearly successful and culprit lost, free to try for the prince's life again another day, or at the very least report their failure to their friends. 

Vision clearing as a result of frustration and shame, the prince grimaced and pushed himself away from Terra's form. To be so close was inconsiderate and cruel, besides, especially after his having caused Terra such trouble. 

If the servant hadn't woken and come after him . . . 

"It's not your fault," voice rasping, he sighed and shook his head. "Thank you . . . for saving me."

Perhaps it was just the situation, but Terra couldn't help but reach for the other ever so slightly when he pulled away. He quickly brought his hand back, scolding himself. He had saved the prince, and now the prince was safe and stable enough to start doing things on his own. He didn't need to cradle the man. That could be demeaning or seen as an insult. Even if he wanted to continue holding the other, it wasn't his place to do so.

"You don't need to thank me, Isa," he said gently. He rose to his feet and offered a hand to help the other stand. Would that be rejected too? Why did he want so badly for it to be accepted? "I'm your guard, remember? You don't need to thank me for simply doing my job. I'm just glad I woke up in time."

A chill made its way down the prince's spine, then, that had little to nothing at all to do with the wind and the water that soaked him to the bone.  _ If Terra hadn't woken up in time _ . . . even just a few minutes, seconds even, longer, then Isa would have been lost. . . 

Not for the first time in the past half hour, Isa cursed his own foolishness, internally resolving himself to be more careful in the future. He couldn't keep taking this sort of risk -- he couldn't come this close, again. 

". . . I'm thankful you did," he muttered, looking up at the other as he stood. For a moment, he debated ignoring Terra's offered hand, but his muscles were still far too weak to cooperate willingly with the rest of him. Thus, attempting to retain as much of his dignity as possible, he took his guard's hand and hauled himself to his feet, stumbling slightly before letting go and starting to walk a bit unsteadily back towards shelter. "But this can't keep happening. I'll have to be more careful -- we both will. That's far too many assassins that have gotten away to strike again another day."

It was clear that the prince, even while standing, was still unsteady. Terra couldn't help but jolt as the other seemed to stumble, ready to catch the other. It hadn't been necessary, but he had almost wanted it to be. What sort of a thought was that? Perhaps he just wanted to ensure that the prince was alright. It was easier to do that when the other was close to him.

"I agree," he said while walking with the other. He stayed a bit closer than he normally did, just in case. "Do you want me to inform the guards here? Maybe that musician is still somewhere close. He didn't look to be the type that would brave the woods. He may just be hiding somewhere. If we find him, that will be one less assassin in the world."

The prince was tired, and decidedly  _ done  _ with all of this. What was supposed to, and head nearly been, his first bit of a break in an extremely long time had only resulted in his growing complacent and far too confident, and nearly cost him his life. 

As Isa walked, steps heavy and a bit unsteady, up the shore, he swore that such a thing would never happen again. 

"Please, do so," he replied with a nod. "Do not inform them what happened. I don't want this  _ out _ ; I'll only be punished and locked away. Ask as if I'm requesting that he play. I need to . . . change and dry myself before making another public appearance." 

He did not look back at Terra as he walked, mind far too busy and preoccupied. He could not,  _ would  _ not, afford to be this foolish again. It was high time that they began taking this matter seriously, and it was growing incredibly obvious to Isa by this point how much he'd fail to do so. 

It would not happen again. From this point forward, he was going to plan ahead. When the next assassin came . . . 

They would be  _ ready _ .


End file.
